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Your Money Mattress Isn’t Big Enough

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And other things I’ve learned in the last 4 1/2 years of following Ramsey, downsizing, and “living like no one else” PART FOUR

 

This cake has nothing to do with money. It just looks good 🙂

 

When my husband’s grandmother was still alive, we would share Thanksgiving at her table. And every year she would grab my hand and proclaim with her eyes shining, “We are SO wealthy, so very, very wealthy!” Everyone understood she wasn’t talking about her bank account, but about the family and love around the table. She was right.

So when we talk about money, we must remember that money is a tool in order to do things, both pleasurable and necessary, to have options in meeting responsibilities and goals, and to provide and leave financial help for our church and children. Being wealthy, much like generosity or lack thereof, has not so much to do with what’s in our wallets, but with what is in our hearts. And having money may make you rich, but not rich towards God, which is vastly–and eternally–most important.

Yet money is given to us to steward and to use for God’s glory. That is one reason why we were concerned with how we were managing (or not) our money, and why after decades of marriage it felt like we could never “get ahead”, despite increases in salary. Unfortunately, many people either in earnest or in jest pointed out our many children as a reason for those struggles, and although naturally there are expenses there, it was our lack of sound financial education that really hindered us. Poorly managing our money did not glorify God.

As an example of a poor education, I think the emphasis on saving money for a rainy day sounds good, but it isn’t based on reality. The reality is that generations ago, this was a super idea because every dollar was backed by something tangible and real that humans around the world valued: gold. So when you saved your money under a mattress, it was as good as saving gold. This was also the era of lifetime employment and loyal pensions, a rarity now.

Since our dollar is now not backed by anything other than “faith” in the U.S.A., and since those dollar bills are continously printed and put into the economy, prices continue to go up on a regular basis. And although we lament those prices going up, what we don’t do is sit around and say is, “Tsk tsk…there goes our dollar going down in value some more…” In other words, unlike that mattress full of money a couple of generations ago having solid value, your mattress isn’t big enough to keep feeding it money to keep up with how fast it is losing its value.

Many homesteaders know this: they see value in more tangible things (land, tools, livestock, etc.) because those are the things we need to live (shelter, food, etc.). In the event of a national emergency, economic or otherwise, those are the people who will not only survive, but thrive and rebuild the country. We see this already in Greece, where people are leaving the cities to return to the land.

The old rules also mapped out what a real education was (get a degree) and how to best retire (invest in the stock market, and expect social security payouts). It doesn’t seem a popular notion anymore that a college degree is necessary to thrive, or that social security or even the stock market is secure and guaranteed. And, besides, depending upon the governement to provide income is like having the hope that your surgery will be paid for by an insurance company should you have a terrible tumor. It’s nice to have that option if you need it and they agree to it, but who wants to need it? Futhermore, nothing from the government is “free”, whether we’re talking about education, social security, or health care. Not free financially, and not free in liberty.

So what can you do?

I’d encourage you to get financially educated. Read books. Listen to different podcasts with differing views. See what makes the most sense, and try to understand how wealthy people (who wrote those books) grew and continue to grow their money. Ask a lot of questions, including why you believe what you believe about money, and if those beliefs are objectively true and reality for the world you’re living in TODAY, not generations ago. And be honest: are you getting ahead? Are you happy with your financial legacy and the ability to use your own money? Can you live to 120 and not stress about running out of money? Write your own, personal questions, and seek answers.

There are many ways to have your money grow money: stock markets, real estate, precious metals, forming corporations, using whole life insurance policies, royalties, dividends, tax breaks, and probably a bunch more I don’t even know about yet. I am not an expert (obviously). The point is that there is a wide range of options beyond simply opening a saving account. It simply takes a commitment to learn, a willingness to try something different, and enough margin and honesty to play wisely.

To wrap up, here are some resources that we have found valuable, in addition to the cherries we learned and still use from Dave Ramsey:

using whole life insurance policies:
https://www.life-benefits.com/

an example of thinking differently:
https://www.life-benefits.com/are-you-sure-you-should-pay-your-house-off-early/

learning about different investments/how & when
http://www.richdad.com/apps-games/cashflow-boardgame

We still have a lot to learn. Stock markets are next on my study list! I hope this has been helpful to you, and I pray that your next Thanksgiving proves very, very wealthy with all of those loved ones around your table.

Blessings,

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Your Money is Using You

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And other things I’ve learned in the last 4 1/2 years of following Ramsey, downsizing, and “living like no one else” PART ONE

 

Do you want to learn about money?

 

Forget religion and politics; what really sets the grim smile on people is trying to talk about money. NOT talking about money led our family down many interesting paths, but always led back to the same place. Over and over and over again. Repeat.

But first, some questions for your consideration. Think about these thoughtfully; the answers matter.

What was your upbringing regarding money?
Fill in the blank: money is _____________
Fill in the blank: people with money are ___________

Now:
Where or how did you learn those above answers?
If I had more money, I would ________
True or false: I have enough resources to financially bless my children and grandchildren.

For this post, I want to get out of our wallets and into our heads. Because like so much else, how our lives unfold are a direct result of how we think, not necessarily because of our circumstances.

Here is an example of thinking about money differently. The phrase I hear more than any other (I’ve used it myself) is “I can’t afford it.” Maybe you’ve used and heard it as well. Over and over and over again. Repeat. (See what I did there?)

Now, it may or may not true that you have funds available (notice I did not say “cash on hand”) in order to purchase the thing or experience you are in desire of. But saying, “I can’t afford it” puts the kibosh on attaining that want, doesn’t it. It’s saying, “I’m poor, I’ll always be poor, and that’s that.” This from someone living in the western world still with its fill of opportunity and freedom! Park your cynicism for a moment, because I’m not talking about just breaking out a credit card.

Two more questions:

What is the payoff in believing that “I can’t afford it”?

Who benefits from your believing that?

Let me give a seemingly unrelated real life event happening right in my backyard, about how what you think and why, when you think wrongly, that way ends up shooting yourself in the foot.

A nearby timber company plans to (legally) drop glyphosate from the skies onto their 300+ acre property. Naturally (and I agree), there is an uproar. No one wants this chemical dropped onto this property, where for certain it will get into ground water and contaminate the air we’re all breathing besides. But this is a company who is looking to raise timber for sale, so that people can buy wood that’s been translated into houses, furniture, toys, and more. In order to keep the weeds down, and increase the timber, they feel a need to use this effective chemical while they get the next generation of timber growing.

What are some other options? Let the weeds get dealt with via other, more expensive and perhaps labor-intense methods. Or allow for a decrease in product. I’m sure there are more options I’m not aware of.

And many of us say, “YES! Do THAT!”

Well, hold the phone. As it turns out, most of us sure do like those cheaper products. We like our big box wood stores selling pieces of lumber at a cheap price. We like buying our homes for less money. In fact, we’d rather ship our products across the Pacific Ocean and in exchange get cheaper materials. And why is that? Because “we can’t afford it”…the “it” being timber raised in a more sustainable and healthy way.

Furthermore, how many of those people who claim to hate glyphosate buy organic food (that it, not raised with the very same chemicals)? Last I looked, my local market got rid of their puny organic selection because the town would not sustain it (notice I did not say “could not”). And why is that? Because “we can’t afford it”.

So inevitably we will get chemicals dumped onto our heads because what we’re really saying through our wallets is “yes, please, and more of the same later.” It’s the same thing we say when, through our lifestyle choices, agree to ingest unending chemicals (drugs) later because “we can’t afford” (in time OR money) to take a walk or practice healthy habits right now.

So, then, what do we say, by our actions, that we CAN afford?

Well, we say we can afford whatever our paycheck says, here and now. But maybe–if we’re not in debt paying someone else for the privilege of yesterday’s purchases. Or barely–if we’re upping our lifestyle instead of our financial education for every $5 raise. And we can afford whatever fixed income the government wants to put us on when we’re older, if we’re lucky (if we’re not, no problem, the state will take from our grandchildren a little more). We can afford whatever doctor or whatever medication our insurance tells us. And we can afford whatever’s left after we pay all of the bills yelling at us to pay them first. So who is telling you what you can and can’t afford?

It isn’t you.

Because if it WAS you, you probably would not be saying, “I can’t afford it.” What you might be saying instead is, “Hmmm…HOW can I afford it?” or “WHEN can I afford it?” or “WHAT do I need to do to afford it?”  Sometimes we say “I can’t afford it” because we’ve never considered any other view of money different from what we imbibed growing up. But, also, too many times we say, “I can’t” when it really means “I won’t.”

Like: I won’t figure out a way. I won’t get financially educated. I won’t pay myself first. I won’t read books, listen to podcasts, take classes or attend conferences to understand the stock market, the health care system or small business practices. I won’t pay a dollar more for the mom-and-pop coffee shop (whose family lives next door) because I’d rather pay a CEO who doesn’t know me at all. I won’t pay the artist for her talent, time, and hard work because I’d rather ask her for charity work (she doesn’t need to eat). And I won’t pay for sustainable timber now to avoid medical problems later. We simply do not connect those dots to reveal why we remain stuck.

Many times (most times?) it’s not a matter of money at all. It’s a matter of VALUE. As in, what you value, how much value you attribute to something, and how you show with your wallet what you say you value with your heart and mouth. If you don’t value the work or experience or service or item, you don’t want to afford it, even as you say you can’t. If you don’t value the discomfort of thinking of money in new ways, then you won’t do the work of trying to dig out of the rut in new ways, either. And on it goes.

What is really derailing your goals, if it’s not the actual dollars in your wallet hindering them? Are any of those based on any “I won’t” or “I can’t” thinking? How we think about money forms those ruts in the roads of our decisions. If those decisions continue to deny us the ability to be generous, thoughtful, and powerful in our use of money, then we need to ask questions and consider other ways of thinking.

There’s a big difference between using your money and spending it. When you use your money to grow your money, your lifestyle gets better and your goals don’t seem so unrealistic. That is you using your money. But when your money makes all of your decisions for you and all you do is spend it, then your money is using you.

More to come.

Present and Living on Purpose: Part Two (Connecting With Your Family)

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“How often in a week, are we diverting ourselves, with our children in our houses? There they stand before us; There is nothing to hinder our saying some very profitable thing for them to think upon; well, can you let nothing fall upon them, that it will be worth their while, for them to think upon?”

Cotton Mather

Apparently, inattentiveness to people in our immediate space isn’t something new. I do wonder what it was that distracted us from our children back in the late 1600’s that caused Mr. Mather such angst, however. Certainly it wasn’t the internet. It wasn’t even the fun and games of electricity. And yet apparently even then we had nothing much to say of great profit to the children in our household due to some kind of distraction(s).

Absence is a sore reality. Many people are lonesome, even within their own homes. However, we know  God setteth the solitary in families (Psalms 68:6) so absence within the family ought not to be.

It’s difficult not to be absent in one way or another. That’s not to say a bit of privacy isn’t welcome or needed on occasion. The error, I believe, is one of habitual absence, of which are a few kinds I can think of.

One, there is physical absence. A family that is apart for most of its waking hours is by nature unable to interact with one another through the long and sometimes difficult hours of work that needs to be done in a household. All of those interactions–those conversations–do not happen simply because they cannot. The ongoing physical absence of any parent for any reason further complicates relationship.

Two, there is emotional absence. Perhaps a parent is afraid to engage lest he or she makes a grievous error. Or there is a history of breaches in their own upbringing and loving modeling wasn’t there. Fear of failure, fear of conflict, or a general disinterest in the hard labor of childrearing may come into play as well. But the child feels a push away when every request for an audience or a desire to help (even though the “help” is not always helpful) is met with “not now” or “go play”.

Three, there is mental absence. When a mother or father does not give attention to their child, many others are more than happy to fill in the gap: teachers, culture, news media, peers, books, video gaming, social media, pornography, cults, Google, et cetera. All come with their own bias and worldviews which, even if the parent agrees with and is happy to have tutelage occurring, isn’t coming from the parent him or herself. So the child attaches to who or what will spend time with him or herself and generally ends up considering the parent irrelevant.

Again, it ought not to be. These unique children made in the image and reflection of God are a privilege and honor to interact with in the very limited time we have with them. But most of the time, witnessed even in the late 1600’s, we don’t really believe that. Instead, we are more inclined to be diverted to an easier, more shallow relationship: don’t bug me, and I won’t bug you. Also known as: if you don’t sin against me, I’ll like you more. Or: it’s ok if you’re consumed with (your smartphone/friends/TV…) because that lets me give my best to (my career/Facebook/fitness…).

Trying to do anything together can be messy because sinners are involved. One is immature, the other stubborn. One is impulsive, the other controlling. One is tired, the other is bouncing off the walls. Or one is slow and methodical, and the other bold and risk-taking. It doesn’t matter if we’re talking about building a table, baking cookies, or understanding a math problem: it will be hard. It’s easier to be absent one from another.

Test yourself in this:

Ask your child or spouse if you spend too much time (on the phone/watching Netflix/doing a hobby/reading…). Do you sense a hesitation from them in answering, like you won’t like their answer?

When your child wants to speak to you, do you stop (typing/mopping/texting…), look him or her in the eye, and get down on their level (assuming they haven’t grown taller than you by now)? Or do they feel like they are always “interrupting” you (from whatever)?

How much waking time do you have during the day with (your spouse/child)? Of that, how much concentrated time do you have one-on-one?

What do you want to really say/teach/model for your children? At the end of your life, looking back, at the rate you are doing right now, will you have said/taught/modeled it?

Cotton Mather’s rebuke is, unfortunately, still timely after four hundred years. Thankfully, God’s mercies are new every morning, and if we are still breathing, we have time to make amends to our children.

James 5:16 says, “Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.”

As always, it is God’s work through repentance and humility that heals. If there is a sense of absence in your home, there are two potential actions that may be helpful:

1. Deal with the hinderance. Addicted to your smartphone? Get rid of it for a season (or forever). Can’t stop working late nights? Look for a different job, perhaps one your child can participate in. Get Biblical counseling if you feel the weight of sin preventing a better relationship with your child. Whatever it is, label the hinderance and deal with it.

And, or…

2. Begin to invite and involve your child into your business, whether it is knitting, paying bills, doing housework or taking out the garbage. Yes, it’s messier and a whole lot slower. And of course, you will have to gauge if that business is indeed “profitable”. For example, if you’re addicted to Twitter, I’m not sure inviting your child to partake in that with you is going to lead to eternal fruit. If your hobby causes you to sin, put it to death (Matthew 5:30).

And eternal fruit is the point, isn’t it? If it isn’t, we are sorely lacking in wisdom and more wretched than we dare to believe. Let us not say with our mouths how much we love our families and yet forsake the great and vapor-like opportunities to do things in love with them, fully present in our hearts and minds while we have favorable time to do them.

Writing to myself and to whomever else it applies,

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Closed for a Season

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Ecclesiastes 3:1   To every thing there is a season…

 

The problem with God requiring truth in the inward parts (Ps 51:6), is that God requires, well…truth in the inward parts. And the truth is that I need to close up the blog for a season. I guess I can sort of blame it on my Present Journal. I’ve been going through it, asking myself the same questions I pondered years ago, before I deleted my blog off of the web in order to *try* to live in integrity with what I believed and wanted, and to *try* to live a life undistracted by the things (in that case, the Internet) that were taking me off course.

So it’s hard to ask the hard questions. About where I am in my goals. About how my walk with the Lord is. About what I hope to do with my children. About where my focus needs to be, and where my distractions are. At this time, I need to not only write about being Present, I need to BE present.

 

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Snail mail from my readers (you!)–thank you!

 
Oh, the same fears pop up when I consider taking a break, especially as a blogger:

What if I disappear? (I won’t)

What if I lose readers? (I will)

Will there still be an outlet for me? (I hope so)

What if it’s a mistake? (What if it’s not?)

 
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Taking loving care of our dying dog. I need to be with my kids more.

 
When I recently considered my goals, I recognized that keeping a blog simply wasn’t high on the list. I’ve never wanted to “grow the blog”, take advertising, or incorporate pop ups (aren’t we all a little weary of clicking little x’s yet?). And yet, if you are a blogger, you know…just the back-end of keeping up with the technology, maintenance, and updates is a lot of work. And for the last ten years (minus my previous hiatus), I’ve enjoyed the work. My first blog post was in 2006. Before opening this current website, I wrote 868 pages worth of content. This post is number 499 for this website. That’s a lot of blogging. And plenty of reading material if you want to go back and catch up 🙂

 

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My home, our nest, needs more time and attention.

 

What am I going to do instead? Well, I imagine I’ll start out being a little dazed…like, someone took my blankie away. But it does seem to be the season for that, of letting go. Sell our “dream” home, send away my livestock, say goodbye to my gardens and downsize to a tiny rental. Sell or donate a ton (literally) of stuff. Then lose a bunch of stored stuff in flooded storage rooms. Trees smash our van (while we’re in it), the oven/fridge/washer/septic/electrical konks out, our sweet kitty dies (yes, I’m still sad about that) and so it goes. Every day I declutter, I downsize, a little more…and then a little more. Maybe I’m downsizing where I spend my time right now, too.

 

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I’ll be helping my daughters restore this dollhouse.

 

I have a lot of things I want to do in my home. It needs fresh paint, some reorganization (again), and a lot of clean up from the flooding both in the storage areas and in landscaping. It might feel a little odd not putting together blog posts about everything. But I’m really all right with the idea of an undocumented life. I’m ready to close the curtains for a while.

 

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What are your homekeeping goals?

 

I’ll be working in my kitchen more. I’ve always wanted to decrease my dependence on the grocery store, and I really have no excuse not to be canning or dehydrating or baking more. The lack of space has discouraged me from doing much, but…really…how silly…I have tables, stools and extra hands. I love cooking from scratch, and want to do better.

 

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The apothecary

 
I’ve really enjoyed seeing the clients I’ve had, to educate them on the use of herbs for good health and healing. I hope to be expanding my practice a bit, to educate and coach others to support their bodies in natural ways. I have no desire to make medicine for anyone, but blending teas and incorporating seasonal herbs everywhere in my kitchen and bath? Yes, please!

 

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I still write my rough drafts long hand.

 
I still plan to write. I’m still working on my next book on Slow Schooling, and I have several more in mind and in notes. I really want to focus on writing them, so I’ll need to spend less time writing blog posts. Furthermore, I desire to be a better writer. I’d like to invest in writing classes and do some hard work there. What can I say? I love the written word(s!).

 

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My handwork basket awaits

 
What else? Well, there is always handwork. Knitting, sewing, embroidery. Basket weaving, felting, book binding. Rag rugs, quilting, applique, spindle spinning and crochet. All are things that encourage the kind of togetherness and conversation (or audio book listening) with my children as they work on their own crafts.
 

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Preparing a sampler warp on my new-to-me loom

 

Of course, there is homeschooling to be done as well. I love homeschooling. There is always something to learn, and my goal is to cultivate minds that are (a) able to learn (ie. knowing how to read) and (b) want to learn (ie. curious about all sorts of things, from history, to people, to the sciences, etc..). And, above all, to know Christ. Because, really, does anything else matter?

 

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My hands are full of little hands

 

I suppose that is all, and probably enough.  If you haven’t read my book, Present, I’d like to invite you to read it and consider how your own life might be different (or the same!) in order to live in integrity, with truth in the inward parts, wholly *present*. If you have read it, I’d love it if you could leave me a review. And, if you’re very brave, maybe you’d want to work through the Journal.

 

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My word for the year. I think I’m going to need it.

 

Tom and I plan to continue the podcast (for now). It’s something he loves to do, and I love him, so it’s a fun sort of “date” to get behind the mics together. If you’d like to keep up with us, make sure to subscribe.

Thank you again, dear readers, for the journey here!

Blessings,

Read My Next Book While I Write It

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Things may get a little messy around here as my website is updated in order to grow with the projects I’m working on. I am putting much of it into the hands of other people, and I’m just hoping to be able to recogninze everything when it is all finished. If things begin to look odd…well, you’ll know why! I’ll try not to gnaw my cuticles in the meanwhile.

Also, I’m writing a new book, currently titled Slow Schooling…And Other Thoughts on Rescuing Childhood. I thought I would write through my blog, and allow my readers to give feedback and thoughts along the way. It’s called “blogging a book”. Does that sound interesting? As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts either through the comments or email. Here’s the rough start.

…

SATURDAY

It’s morning. My eyes open to tentative sunshine coming through the thick textured curtains and I stretch. Saturday. I can hear my little brother already up, banging away at drawers, doors, toys, his voice full of mmm’s and rrr’s as little metallic cars race over carpet folds and crash into one another.

I know how the morning will go. Dad will make Eggo waffles with Mrs. Butterworth looking regally on. He will read the newspaper in his slippers and at some point will take Tinker, our pomeranian, for a walk. Mom will wash all of the dishes, sanitize wherever we’ve been, and then get busy ridding dust and dirt. Larry will finally tire of his matchbox cars, pad into the family chatter, and ask for Fruit Loops with his waffles. And I…I will read a chapter of Archie Andrews and then race out the door. I will jump onto my pink banana seat bicycle, pump my legs, and seek out friends. They, too, are flowing from homes, blinking into the sunshine, and grabbing bikes and balls.

Roller skates soon rush down sidewalks, clicking over breaks between the squares. Laughter, shouting, shrieks of tag. Jump ropes, soccer, chatty girlfriends sitting on curbs and stretching legs and pulling gum.

It’s Saturday morning.

…

I think about this, my childhood, especially when I cruise down a suburban neighborhood full of single family homes, square checkerboard garages placed front and center. Sidewalks roll like hills in front of yards polka dotted with dandelions. But it’s as if each family packed up their lives into worn leather bags and set them off unattended onto foreign freighters.

My eyes sweep and I see at least one limp pool with a slide, evidence of water play. One young teen boy, half-heartedly walking the family dog. What I want to know is…where is everyone? Where are all of the children, the rollickling laughter and hullabaloo? Where is the pick up soccer game? The underdogs at the playground with show-off boys zipping their 10-speed bikes underneath screaming preteen girls on swings? I hear them in my mind, but my eyes relay the truth.

I consider maybe they don’t exist, tempting trails in my mind to ponder the plummeting birth rate or abortion, but, really, it’s too nice of a day to think like that and I’m here prowling for yard sales, anyway.

It’s still Saturday. But it just feels a bit hollow is all.

Slow Bread

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I’m one of the many people interested in slowing down the pace of their lives. If I were walking around and literally following Jesus while he was going from place to place teaching, he wouldn’t be asking me to hurry and keep up. Oh no, rather, he’d be constantly saying, “Whoa, Keri Mae! Not so fast!”

One thing that’s helped me to slow down to a more comfortable pace is to get in my own way. For example, if I want to decrease the time I spend on the Internet, I turn off the router each and every time I log off. That way, it’s kind of a pain to “just” Google something, or “just” check my email. In essence, I make it harder to do the things I don’t really want to do, in order to change the habit.

 

I’ve learned to appreciate slow food, with its slow preparation and even its slow availability. I just don’t like to buy my apples in June or my asparagus in October. Rather, I try to wait for the proper season, and then enjoy the slow pace of preparing foods from scratch. If I want to slow down my day’s tempo, it helps that I’m not *quickly* opening a jar of spaghetti sauce, but rather taking the time to chop the onions, brown the sausage, simmer the sauce. It means I have to be home. It means I have to be present. So I get in my own way to slow myself, and forgo buying the much-faster, far-quicker, ready-made jar. Does that make sense?

 

Here are some pictures of how we bake bread around here. You may find it insanely slow. But it’s pretty good at fostering a meandering sort of lifestyle. Baking bread around here takes a few days, so I can’t just decide on Monday morning for lunch bread that same day. But it also doesn’t take a whole lot of actual time in each step, either. Each day has its short task, but it builds to the finished food.

 

First, I soak five pounds of wheat berries in a large stainless steel bowl. I use a mix of hard red and soft white spring wheat berries. I don’t bother draining them until I see teeny tails sprouting, usually 24-36 hours later. Can you see that here? You can see how much plumper the berries are, too. You can read about *why* to soak and sprout your grains here.

 

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After the soaking is finished, I drain and rinse the berries and spread them onto the dehydrator sheets. Five pounds of wheat berries takes up all five trays in my dehydrator.

 

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I dehydrate them at 100 degrees for about 24-36 hours.

 

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When the berries are dry, I grind them into flour. My Vitamix does a good job, but I can only work with two cups at a time, and it does warm the flour a bit. I’m not real interested in owning another appliance, so this suits me.

 

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I use my sifter to make sure there aren’t any stray berries in the flour, and also to catch up any excess bran. I was happy to learn that sprouted flour does not go rancid like the unsprouted variety. Here is some more information about how to make flour from a great website on culturing foods. Into the bin the flour goes, on my countertop at room temperature.

 

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Meanwhile, I am getting my sourdough starter fed. It takes me a couple of days to feed it and to get the amount I want to use. I get my sourdough starters and directions on how to use them from Sourdoughs International. My favorite starter is the Russian one; it works well with the heavier whole wheat flour, and rises quicker, too (by “quicker” I mean 3-4 hours rather than 8-10 hours). Plus, it has good sourdough flavor, which we all appreciate around here.

 

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Then, it’s finally time for the bread bucket! I love using our bread bucket. It’s so easy, and my children love taking turns to crank for the three minutes after the ingredients are in it. Here is our recipe for four loaves of sourdough, whole wheat bread (which I’m sure you could make without a bread bucket!):

 

2 cups sourdough starter

5 cups water

1/2 cup sunflower oil

1/2 cup honey

2 TB salt

13 cups whole wheat flour (which, by the way, is almost all five pounds)

 

making slow sourdough bread

 

After the three-minute crank, it’s time to let the dough rise. Many things are dependent on how long it takes to rise, such as the specific starter used and the ambient temperature. Lately we’ve been letting our dough rise overnight, and we love the extra tang of sourdough we get from the longer time.

 

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Finally, we plop the dough out onto the counter, let it rest for 30 minutes, and then divide it into four parts. It doesn’t take very much kneading at all to get it smooth and ready to put into the loaf pans to rise. Anyone can do it 🙂

 

making slow bread

 

Once the bread has risen in the pans, it’s ready for the oven! We bake our loaves at 375 degrees for about 40-45 minutes. It’s real important to remove the breads from the pans rather quickly afterwards (within a few minutes), as the sourdough really wants to adhere to the pan as it cools. Then, just let the loaves cool until you can’t stand it any longer and have to slice a bit and melt butter all over it. Eat on the porch swing in the lazy languishing late morning sunlight 🙂

 

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It’s really not that bad, this slow cooking, slow bread baking. Once a rhythm is established, fresh-baked bread can be another part of making a house a very comfortable, healthy, and a slower paced relaxing sort of home.

 

Blessings,

 

A Downsizing Tip: Consolidate

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When nothing is sure, everything is possible.

Margaret Drabble

 

Downsizing isn’t finished around here and has become more difficult. What to keep? What to get rid of? I crave the space but cling to the craziest things…like my lesson plan books I used when I was teaching 17+ years ago! But they were so good, I think, it was so fun… But I have never used any of those things in homeschooling, and even if I were to go back to teaching in a public school (not likely), I would do things differently.

 

But there they were: notebooks of photos, lesson plans, schedules, etc. and etc. (and etc.) I thought about giving them to someone and I thought about making up some nifty ebook about *whatever* from it all, but I finally just chucked them. I’ve also been going through all of our homeschooling books and curriculum. I have used so many different approaches, different books, different work texts…it just made up for a lot of books and things that not only took up space, but collected dust (literally). A friend taught me how to sell books on Amazon and woo-whee have I been making a lot of trips to the post office to mail books! I tell you what: it doesn’t hurt as bad to get paid to downsize! Slowly, slowly, I am consolidating my books to the ones I reference often, or reread. I figure if it’s just attracting more dust, I am blessing my children ahead of time with less to deal with later when I die.

 

Here are some other areas I am consolidating. Consider this a “7 Tips To Downsize!” with “BONUS 3 more for free!” without the annoying ads or pleadings to join my email list. (You’re welcome. But do join my email list :))

  • recipes: I know I don’t need 50 cookbooks, but that is what I’ve downsized to at this point (I know…it’s a sickness…). Any cookbook I kept for only one or two recipes went buh-bye and those recipes got copied into my recipe box. Someday I will go through that recipe box and flick out every card that hasn’t seen the light of kitchen workspace into the garbage can. And someday I will then downsize my cookbooks again (and again) until I can happily have…I dunno…five? I am finding that the library has a bazillion cookbooks I can try out, so that’s my plan for fresh inspiration when I need it. And then–wouldn’t it be cool?–I can type up all of my consolidated recipes into a personal cookbook!
  • art/craft/sewing instructions: so.many.tutorials. All just waiting for the nebulous time I’ll get to it “later” but you know what? Whenever I get that “later” time, I always find something else I’d rather do. But just looking at all of this stuff makes me long to make this or create that and promise myself (again and again and again) that I will get to it. So now I *am* getting to it…by letting most of it get-to-gone.
  • art supplies: I love art journaling and have started my second book. But I find that I am using the same materials over and over again, and I have a whole lotta of maybe-someday-meh things that are pretty to look at but I’m tired of maintaining and organizing. In fact, I am sick of “organizing”. I don’t care how well I do it; it still means s.t.u.f.f. I’m tired of plastic bins, shelves, binders, and drawers. Most of my art things happily went to an artsy friend of mine.
  • herbal recipes: I am an herbalist and have scraps of paper everywhere with recipes and notes on them. I am consolidating them all into two books: one for recipes and my own materia medica, and one for lecture and class notes. Once my lectures notebook is full (it’s almost there), I will just use the other one for everything.
  • photographs: I love Shutterfly, and manage all of our photographs there. One day I’d like to consolidate all of the old photographs into a digital book, but spending time on the computer is definitely not my thing (I’ll forgo the rabbit trail of where I see this blog going for right now…). What I’ve done with my loose photographs is gone through various stacks and tossed the extras. For example, when I came across photos for a holiday event, I tossed all of the repetitive or otherwise unworthy-to-be-saved pictures. Do I need 15 photographs of a child in various poses in a single outfit? I think not.
  • clothing: I am terrible with my closet. It’s not that I have too many clothes; I have very little. I’ve been trying to gather clothes according to some mathematical number (have so-many shirts, etc.) but I’ve since decided that I need *outfits* for certain days. I need a “going out” outfit, a “gardening” outfit, a “clean the house” outfit, etc. This is easier for me to manage; I can just grab Monday’s clothes. Mathematically, I guess that means like “ten outfits”, giving some flexibility to the week.
  • time: I’m always trying to arrange my time to give priority to what I feel is most important, letting go of *extra* tasks and outings that are not fueling my main purpose at this season in my life.
  • homeschooling: From many different curriculums, to joining together as one group. Finally. My oldest is 17 and I feel like I’ve finally come to peace with how we homeschool. Combining grammar with Bible with reading with writing with history and so on. Everyone working at their own levels, and with time to pursue their own interests. I know….because you’ve been asking…I need to write a homeschooling post or do a podcast on it. But I’m too busy homeschooling 😉
  • gardening: Well, it’s certainly easier to consolidate my gardening when there isn’t much to do! The old house we were in had never-ending (although satisfying) garden work, and this current house has kept us so busy with repairs and upgrades that I haven’t been able to spend time OR money outside in the kitchen garden. The raised beds desperately need to be weeded of morning glory and buttercup, and it seems so daunting. Furthermore, I need dirt and compost but seriously cannot find anyone to bring me $50 worth of soil. So do I want a dump truck delivered with a tremendous amount of extra for $364? I am soooooo thankful for our CSA down the street and cannot wait for the first box this upcoming weekend.
  • kitchen: One drawer or shelf at a time, that’s how it’s done. Do I really use 12 wooden spoons? No, I use the same 3 all of the time. Do I use my soup tureen? No, I just use the pot, even with guests. And so on…

One thing we just consolidated was the time we spend on our hens. I get the great idea of a chicken tractor and we’ve used one for many, many years. But it is falling apart, and it is daily work that takes time. I was ready for a simple coop with access to the outside pasture. Thankfully, we were blessed with a gentleman that gave us his labor and time in exchange for playing with his baby (and such a sweet baby!). So, he put up some gates in our yards to keep our toddlers safe and then built us a small coop to put the hens in at night. He also relieved us of our wasted feed problem. I am immensely grateful to him and wish he could continue to work for us, but he has his own homestead to work on.

 

Here is our easier chicken work load; isn’t it pretty? The duck house is in front of it; we brought that from our old house. The ducks free range, too. Having a livestock guardian dog is a very nice way to keep predators away.

 

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The inside has crates for the nest boxes which will be far easier to clean than the wooden ones we had in the tractor. And there is PVC pipe for a continuous, clean, non-waste feed source, and branches for the roosts. We still need to set up a watering system, reinforce the bottom to discourage digging varmints, and put in bedding for the bottom.

 

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I can’t say I love downsizing. The *idea* is great, but the work is hard. It’s not the difficulty of taking stuff out, although there is work in that. It is more of a mind and heart work, and a very stimulating and provoking challenge to where my treasures really are. I’m keeping my eye on the prize.

 

Blessings,

Downsized Dining Tour

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First of all, thank you for not only the comments, but for the ones for my eyes only, and for the emails, and for snail mail. Sometimes I am really slow in responding, but, Lord willing, I will get there.

 

I’m not in the “nesting” stage yet but I sense it coming. I’m still hoping to get the house all put together before the baby comes, so I can just relax and enjoy the holidays. I’ve been working hard also to finish some online schoolwork; lots of reading, reports, exams. But, slowly, this house is coming together. And–praise God!–our other house is pending sale already to someone who loves it and, I feel, will take very good care of it.

 

Ready for a dining room tour? I enjoy sharing with you all; it keeps me going, one room at a time!

 

For reference, this was our dining room in the previous house. We had just put up the wood walls and it *finally* felt like what I was wanting. We also had a secondary dining area off the kitchen so in reality we had two large tables to use for ourselves and for guests. We also had a very large hutch built into the cabinetry with lots of doors and drawers. If you saw my last post on downsizing the kitchen, you saw where my “hutch” went.

 

dining room wall paneling

 

And here is our dining room today–only one table. Ironically, I got the walls I really wanted–all OVER the house 🙂 Through the window there is the mudroom; you can see my baskets hanging off the ceiling (pics soon).

 

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I was so worried the house buyer would want my big chalkboard. It is real slate, given to me by a previous schoolteacher knowing that I was leaving the profession to homeschool my children. My husband made the frame. He also built in the bookcases and that is where we store a lot of our homeschooling books and dictionaries and so forth.

 

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Looking in the other direction, to the left is the hall and to the right is the living room (pics soon!).

 

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Little houses get short tours 🙂

 

I’m finding myself sitting or lying down more. I finally pulled out my handwork projects and started picking at them when I needed a break from physical activity or academics. I’m hoping to make this into a fabric book of my favorite things. I also need to start getting busy preparing for the baby; I enjoy making all of the herb teas and baths and powders and so forth.

 

handwork

 

What a crazy season it has been for me. There are days I am still in unbelief, that we really sold our house, that we really moved, that we downsized at the same time as upsizing our family with another baby (our 8th) on the way. I am almost finished earning a certificate as a master herbalist, and a book cover is in the works for Present. That’s been a slow process, also a season of just planting and watering and waiting. I’ve been ignoring the noise of creating a big “platform”, pushing for email sign ups, taking on advertising. It’s not who I am. Instead I am just trusting that whatever I do and whomever I am will just either bless or annoy; like Jesus, I crave hot and cold and dislike lukewarm. Maybe I am entering a season of being ok with that, of letting expectations and perfections and regrets go with the wind. I hope that in my life, I will bare much fruit, and, at the end, die and fly away knowing that my God was glorified in some way by it all. I’m sure looking forward to seeing our good Lord face to face; aren’t you?

 

dandelion

 

Thankful for the cross,

Suffering–and What to Do With Old Journals

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I pondered what to do with all of the old books, those thick notebooks full of prayers, thoughts, dreams and probably far too many complaints.  They all sat on the floor for months, giving me time to flip through, read a little here and there.  Some of it made me laugh.  But lots of it made me pensive and sorrowful.  I felt sorry for the girl-teen-woman in the pages, her hunger for self-worth and love so painfully raw.  Part of me wanted to put them back into boxes, shoved back into the dark corners of closets, but the other part of me wanted to let them go, forever unavailable to eyes other than God.  Ultimately, because these were tools for my own hashing out, they were destroyed.

 

I expected to feel sad.  But I wasn’t.  I was just ready to be a little more kind to me (does that idea seem unChristianly?).

 

There are many people I know or have read about that have  real suffering in their lives, everything from depression to things that would make you weep.  I wonder if they journal, if they talk with God.  I also wonder about how we as Christians are the hands and feet of the Great Physician, and yet too many times what is offered are flippant platitudes and scripture tossed about carelessly.  I have seen for myself how words out of the mouth ring shallow when the eyes don’t bother with the time to really look.  I know Christians suffering who are told to “Just get over it”.  It is shameful.

 

My great concern is how to share the love of Christ with the suffering, how to tell them of Jesus and plead for their souls, reminding them of their worth because they are made in His image.  So many have so much shame that Law is the last thing they need–they are already  fully aware and tender under its weight.  But I also know this:  because I have not felt their pain in the truest sense, my “suffering” being laughable by some standards,  my words carry only as much weight as the attention of my eyes and heart.   I don’t want to be high and unapproachable, seemingly unbitten by trials, stingy with any morsels of grace and love even as I offer up Truth.  In this sense any words at all would fall flat, empty as flattery, as helpful as snake bites.

 

What else challenges me is this:  do people I know that have seen real suffering have real access to those tea cups of mine?  Can they mosey into my life at all?  Would I, right now, be a friend to the young woman in my own journals?

 

So what do you do with your old journals? Do you save them in hopes of finally being understood someday?  Do you keep them as a record to look back on (and does it help you to do so)?  Are they full of historical and familial stories you want saved for your grandchildren?  The right thing for me was to let them go.  Maybe the right response to old journals depends on what they were used for to begin with.

 

Ironically (or not…), I received a blank mask in the mail to complete before the Art and Soul Retreat in Portland.  I’ve never been on a retreat like this before, much less on a solo vacation.  But I am looking forward to it, to learning new skills and hopefully making some new friends in a new realm.  Strips of old journaling cover my face, because I know every bit of every word is still part of the make up of me even if the books no longer exist.  Some say art heals.  I say Jesus heals, but sometimes He uses art to see us through (not over) it.  

 

mask from journals

 

Blessings,

When Your Dream Dies

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I had it all mapped out in my heart and head.  I’d be a good student, make the necessary graduations, get married, have some kids and live healthily and happily ever after in my own home.  Well, by the grace of God most of those things happened, but I’ve been feeling rather stupid and wondering what happened to the “happily ever after” part.  That’s the part that I get to do what I think God created me to do, using tools I believe He’s supplied, completely satisfied with my past efforts and full of hope in my current endeavors, knowing the blessing of  loving support from friends and family.

Except it isn’t exactly happening that way.  Over the past few years my dreams have been challenged.

 

Relationally, I’ve had to just accept that some people will never accept me the way I am (pshaw, *I* don’t even like the way I am!).  Some will make false assumptions and even lie about my beliefs.  Some will attack my character, either in jest (which isn’t really funny) or on the internet highways.  Some will take advantage and bleed me dry.  Some will patronize me and yet others elevate me to a nonsensical supergirl.  And, the fact is, my own expectations of what constitutes a good relationship are just as damning.   I, too, don’t make time for others I supposedly care about (except of course I’d make time to attend their funeral…).  I, too, say unloving and flippant things (except of course they deserved that…).  I, too, avoid saying what’s needed (when I’m not saying what’s hurtful!).  It’s enough to make me want to lie in a cave.  Alone.  Except of course I dream of acceptance.

 

My accomplishments have suffered.  My ideas of what I’m supposed to do have taken some serious hits.  Weeds have grown knee-high, animals around here have been lost,  suppers (and appointments) have been late.  I haven’t been the picture of a proverbs 31 woman and I can’t even seem to finish a project more than 80%.  My motivation sometimes stops at pulling up my own bootstraps and then I’m snarky towards those that wear them well.  Naturally I am keenly aware of womenfolk who never seem to suffer even a hair out-of-place, but that just puts me right back into the last paragraph of some folks making false assumptions and now I am one of them.

 

More?  Material things have buried me.  One of the reasons Pinterest drives me crazy (as helpful as it really can be) is I see all of the open dreaming and I want to respond to them.  Oh, I want that huge ginormous open cabinetry in my kitchen (really? you want to dust all of that because believe me dust bunnies will party), oh to have a whole acre to grow cabbage in (you do realize that will take copious amounts of time and weeding and pest control,right? and you might still only get one head of cabbage.  maybe.).  The truth is I have the big house, the five acres, the big gardens, the farm animals, the long dirt road and yes, four bathrooms.  And because there is no internet site titled “Gratitude Pinterest for What I Already Have”, I am the one pinning one-bedroom cottages and pining for them (oh to clean the whole house in one hour! oh to have only one flower bed to weed! oh to have no mortgage! oh to live off grid!).   Too bad being a contented and grateful child of the King of Kings hasn’t been one of my *dreams*.

 

I’m not even going to hit all of the dreams about health (full and vibrant of course!), marriage (a lifelong intense love affair!), mothering (attentive and appreciative children of course!) and so forth.

 

So sometimes dreams go away.  Sometimes they are put aside for tomorrow, and sometimes, in reality, they die.

 

Praise.the.Lord.

 

Because when the dream dies, its ashes reveal our hearts and the sandy foundations you and I have built those dreams upon. It fillets our true motives and gives an honest assessment of what we really believe (despite what we say).   When the dream dies, it feels like the ground has moved, and it has.  That ground was probably fertilized with self-centered pride (ouch), and not exactly on the Rock of Ages and what HIS plans were and are.

 

What I really wanted to do here was whine about my trials (you got some of that, right?).  But I will also tell you that God is faithful, He is good, and He is ever-present even when it feels like He is not.  There is His wisdom and grace and provision in it all. And yes, He does know what He’s doing in it all.   AND, friend, unless your dreams sometimes die, you will miss the very best thing there is, even better than those ideals you have created for yourself:  God Himself.

 

Maybe, just maybe, if that is true, we ought to courageously be praying for more of our dreams to turn to dust.  Truth?

 

Blessings,

Does Your Home Have These Three Foundations?

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I like to read through the Bible, front to back, in addition to Psalms and Proverbs.  Some days I get a half hour or more of reading, and others I’m just thankful for the short devotions I had with my babies.  This morning I found myself in 1 Chronicles.  It is full of genealogies, lists upon lists of names.  It reminded me that the Bible is a historical book, with real names and real battles and real lives.  But I admit my attitude in approaching it was sort of pathetic.

 

“Ok, Lord, you say that all Scripture is profitable.  Please profit me here in all these lists!”

 

That’s not even the faith of a molecule, much less a mustard seed.

 

But I did get three charges for me and my family life.

 

One, that training character is huge.  Many times I read names that had attached, “mighty men of valor”.  Valor is courage in the face of danger, and I can’t think of any danger that we face that doesn’t have at its seedbed either (1) lies from the devil or (2) God’s trial to expose to ourselves what we are really made out of (like He’s so shocked about what we do. Not!).  Courage is cultivated from standing on Truth.  Too often we are satisfied with sitting in our own dung rather than gum up the courage to make changes to get out of it because it would just prove what our hearts were already accusing ourselves of.  Pride is the opposite of courage, and it makes us weak.

 

Two and Three, that knowing and keeping are two different things.  Knowing the Truth isn’t enough.  Keeping the Word of the Lord and communing with Him in prayer is our very life.  It is, in fact, from whence Truth comes.  Ultimately, these failures not only killed Saul, but his legacy as well.

 

1 Chronicles 10:13-14  So Saul died for his transgression which he committed against the LORD, even against the word of the LORD, which he kept not, and also for asking counsel of one that had a familiar spirit, to enquire of it… 

 

May I ask?

  • When you awake in the morning to where does your heart and mind fly?
  • Are you eager to hear from the Lord, to read His Word?
  • Do you hunger after it throughout your day and meditate upon Scripture?
  • Are you talking with Him as a friend at all, or only as a hero to save you from your circumstances?
  • Are you talking with Him in praise and prayer at all?
  • Or are you looking to the world for your every answer, your every solution, your every path and next step?
  • Or maybe, like Saul, you simply reason within yourself and do that which you feel is right.  You behave in reality like the pagans, believing that tomorrow will be just the same as a blissful today, taking advantage of God’s longsuffering and grace.

 

2 Peter 3:4   And saying, Where is the promise of his coming? for since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation.  

 

It matters because as a servant is not above his master, so shall our children not grow in their hearts beyond our own witness in deed.  It is not enough to just honor the Lord with our lips (Isa 29:13).

 

If we truly desire “very able men for the work of the service of the house of God” (1 Chron 9:13), then we must put aside those things (and people) that hinder us from reading and studying His Word and that distract us from putting the Lord first in our lives.  If those failures were enough to slay Saul and all his house, what makes us think our own lives and children are not in similar danger?

 

I’m encouraged that character training, Bible study and prayer ought to be the foundations of my home and homeschool.  It is a light burden, a delightful one, really.  When you realize that everything else will fall into place around those pillars, it gives courage to plant those pillars deep.

 

And a big lesson learned:  don’t skip reading those genealogies!

 

Blessings,

Art Journaling for Beginners

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I’ve kept a handwritten journal for many, many years.  In it are thoughts from my days, trials I’ve worked (and am working) through, ideas and lists, Bible studies and prayers, poetry, hopes and plans and just bunches of stuff that I wish I had from a great-grandma or two regarding their lives, good, bad and ugly.  I know some people say that journals should be kept clean, that is, nothing that would cause the reader to see the ugly side of the writer….but I don’t see the point of that.  I *do* have ugly sides to me and I praise God for picking on those areas to refine.

Lately I’ve been intrigued with keeping an art journal, one that would allow me to incorporate more of the artistic side of me.  But, as some people see a blank page and have “nothing” to write, I have the same issue regarding art.  I *know* I have an “artistic side” because God, in whose image I am made, is the creative Creator of everything.  So I think I need to dig it out a little, this bit of creativeness, cultivating mustard seeds that may lie latent.

There are a lot of online drawing, art, journaling (you name it) classes.  I took one last winter in person, which was a stretch but I enjoyed it.  Since then I’ve collected a number of mixed media art books and find myself loving them, the mix of drawing, paint, and words.  My goal is to combine my writing and my art, each one reflecting and supporting the other.  I think, perhaps, these will be treasured by some young lady a hundred years from now, and if not…well, the process grew me.

Here is a peek into my (first!) art journal, and the things I have done to conquer the blank page in front of me.  I’m not going to pretend to be humble because truthfully I am pleased that I took the time to try something new, and I know if I keep at it, it will just get better in time.

I am very interested in God’s creation, love learning about botany, and use herbs a lot in my home.  Learning to draw plants has given me a more observant eye to a whole lot more than just flora and fauna.  No matter the season, there is always something that can be drawn.

 

I read years ago about the idea of illustrating sermons from The Hidden Art of Homemaking, but it wasn’t until I was going through that book with my small book group that I actually tried it.  I find it incredibly useful for explaining the sermon to my toddlers as they listen in the pews with us. Furthermore, it is quite the brain-stretcher for ME, too, trying to translate spoken words into illustrations.   I get lots of my own thoughts and questions during the sermon and can add those too.

 

 

I’m finding that art journaling doesn’t have to depend on my own talents (YAY).  Like many of you, I love visual representations of handwork, gardening, homemaking, and so forth.  Pinterest isn’t popular for nothing! I decided that the collection of pictures I’ve been saving from magazines and so forth would be great to put into my art journal.  It moves them from the realm of clutter (or even filed away) to a place I can enjoy and look at often.  Here I was still learning how to glue down pictures without causing bubbling.  Like I said, “journaling for beginners.”

 

 

I finally decided to try the whole enchilada, mixed media bit.  I used an old torn up Curious George book to cut into, and combined paper, paint, pastels and stamps (and I don’t even remember all else) for these pages.  I feel this is the first set of pages that come close to combining my writing (which I haven’t added yet) and art.  Because, like George, I have much to frighten me (another birth–what, am I crazy?, the political world, mean folks, the grotesque evil in the world, our nation’s moral and economic decline…..you know, the same ol’ things since the fall of man…). And yes, like George, I am holding on very tight (but to God!!).  Through it all, I am “learning to fly”, learning to trust in God’s sovereignty and goodness in all things.

 

 

So, here are the last two pages I’ve prepared, ahead of time, for any writing to follow.  I have a “blue” page, and a “pink” page, ready for this baby to come.  My plan is to get this baby’s foot print on whichever page is most appropriate, and then write there about the birth.  Who knew that nesting would include getting art journal pages ready, too?!

 

 

 

That is all for today.  Tomorrow is my “official due date”.  Now I am heading outside to sit in a chair in the glorious sunshine to keep my family company while they complete the first of two more pastures for our dairy goats.  And I think……I think I shall take along my art journal, too.

Bible Reading Plans: Are You Sure You Want One?

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The last couple of days I’ve been seeing a lot of Bible reading plans touted, mostly to get a reader through the whole Book in a year.  Although I appreciate the importance of reading the Word in an orderly fashion, I do pause at the idea of galloping through His Word in any way just to check off the reading as “done”.  At this time in my life, with a busy household of a husband and six homeschooling children and one baby on the way, to read the Word in one year would be rushed.  But maybe you have way more oodles of time than I do.  I do wonder, though, what happens if you get 8 days, or even 8 months, into a perfect reading mode and then you’re slammed for a week with the flu? Do you try to catch up?  Feel like you’ve failed?  Or worse, failed God?  Is He grading us on our Bible reading habits?

Make sure if you’re going to follow a plan of some sort, that you check yourself on your motives.  If you’re certain you want to follow a reading plan (because you need the structure or accountability or whatnot), here are some thoughts adopted from the late N.A. Woychuk’s pamphlet, “Hints for Reading the Bible”, which unfortunately I cannot find anywhere online to share with you.  It is profitable.

  1. Will you be approaching your Bible with an earnest desire to understand it, or will it be merely a formality, something to check off your “to do” list?
  2. Will you be reading it with reverence, or will you be distracted by the things awaiting you when you’re finished?
  3. Will you be reading it with an earnest prayer for the teaching of the Holy Spirit, or will you be skimming the passages and paying more attention to the study notes on the side? “Humble prayer will throw more light on your Bible reading than all the commentaries written,” said Mr. Woychuk.
  4. Will you read your Bible with a child-like faith and humility, knowing that ALL Scripture is profitable (yes, even the book of Numbers), or will you pass by the genealogies and lists just to get ahead (or catch up) on your schedule?
  5. Will you read the Bible in a spirit of self-application, or do you simply want to be able to say you’ve read the whole Bible?

There is nothing inherently wrong with a Bible reading plan; in fact, in can be very helpful in getting into parts of the Book that are regularly skipped and missed.  The main thing, however, ought to be the main thing:  reading it honestly.

I’ve gone through many seasons in Bible reading.  I’ve had times where I’ve had hours to read and to do in-depth word studies using the Bible alone (with a concordance), finding much fruit in applications.  Then I’ve had seasons of postpartum slow-mo-fog where all I ever seemed to snatch was a verse or two a day at best, taping it onto my counter by the sink to ponder.  I believe the Lord honors our hearts in our hunger for Him through His Word, and will bless us however much we can do when we can do it.

Currently, I have a husband that goes into work late, and children that all sleep in.  I am able to wake early in the morning and have a nice quiet time of reading.  In case you are curious, my current Bible reading plan is:

  1. Reading through the entire Bible, 1-3 chapters at a time, from the OT straight through to the NT.  I don’t put a deadline on getting to the end of the Book; whenever I get there, I just start at the beginning again.  And yes, I’m in the book of Numbers.
  2. I read the psalm of the day.  If it is the 2nd of the month, I will read Psalm 2.  Then I add 30 until I get to the end.  So I would read Psalms 2, 32, 62, 92, and 122 that day.  In this way I get through the Psalms every month.  I don’t stress if I miss a day!  I just pick up on whatever day is next.
  3. I read the proverb of the day, too.  If it is the 2nd of the month, I read Proverbs 2.

To do all of that reading, plus writing in my journal, takes me anywhere from 40 minutes to an hour in the morning.  But I know that once baby comes, I may have to go back to grabbing a verse or a chapter when I can.  It’s not a failure if I can’t keep up on a schedule of some sort, even if it is *my* schedule.  Again, reading it honestly is important.  The Bible is not a check-off task!

When I want to go through a Bible study or other devotional (topical or a sermon series, etc.), I do that either in the morning if I still have time after reading, and/or in the evening before bed.  Audio Bibles are wonderful, too, to listen to while crafting or driving or even while falling asleep.  Reading aloud to the children out of the Bible “counts” as reading, too, of course!

Whatever your plans are for this year in your Bible reading, try to do it daily.  Keep it simple, allow yourself some grace, and come hungry to hear Him.  I am certain He will fill you, and bring you joy as you seek Him in whatever schedule or manner of reading you are led.

Jeremiah 15:16   Thy words were found, and I did eat them; and thy word was unto me the joy and rejoicing of mine heart: for I am called by thy name, O LORD God of hosts. 

Blessings,

The Hassle of Reading

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I find a vast difference between the distraction-laden computer screen/magazine/newspaper scanning we’ve become accustomed to versus the slow, contemplative reading that gives a person a chance to really hear what an author is attempting to present and engage the reader with. And it saddens me that literacy rates are in a sorry state, and just a quick (yes, skim) of the internet reveals the average adult in the U.S. is reading somewhere between the 5th and 9th grade reading levels. Maybe it isn’t so sad at all.  Maybe it’s become one big shrug, and then it’s back to the short, choppy texts, updates and tweets we return to between doorbell announcements of another email in the inbox.

Maybe reading an entire book (or hey, even an entire blog post!), is just too much of a hassle. Maybe we’ve just trained our brains to take in so many pieces of minutia that even the idea of a comprehensive complete pontificating of a whole idea is not worth the effort anymore. Thinking has become passe’; we don’t even need to learn how to read maps anymore because GPS systems do the *thinking* for us.

I don’t know.  It seems more and more obvious that we’re missing out on building real live relationships when we’re each tethered to our personal digital products to (ironically) “connect” with others, but what, if anything, goes missing if we stop reading? Does it really matter if we read from paper or from a screen?  Does it really matter if newspapers have “dumbed down” over the centuries (have you seen or tried to read one of those from the 1800’s)?

Do the children in our homes see us tapping our fingers on keyboards and smartphones more than turning the pages of books?  I’m just wondering.  Does it really matter?  Do we really care if our children learn to read and think deeply, or is it just cool that they grow up to be savvy enough send thousands of texts a month, preferring that to talking?  After all, talking takes work.  Like reading.

If you’ve read this far (not likely, given the odds!), chances are that these things do matter to you.  If so, do whatever it takes to ponder these things (lock yourself in your bathroom for 15 minutes if you have to…without your cell phone….).  And if distractions are the rule in your life, consider what it may be costing.

And maybe…maybe then pack up the family and go to the library for thick books to read.  And turn off the gadgets for a couple of hours.  And pop some popcorn.  And read and then bond together by talking (not texting) about it all.  And maybe…maybe even forgo the temptation to blog, update or tweet about the experience.  Maybe….maybe reading will not be quite the hassle anymore, but the blessing we’ve been missing out on.

If you need or want a strong hand to help you in this, you could (shudder) try Freedom.  It’s an application that locks you away from the internet on Mac or Windows computers for up to eight hours at a time.  If you think that’s scary…..try another generational slide into deeper illiteracy.


You can read more thoughts on reading this week at other High Five Mom posts. Tell them I sent you!




Pondering with you,

Writer’s Block (Well…Sorta…)

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I’m sitting here on a shady deck on a halfway sunny day drinking a hot mocha with whip out of a paper cup.  I’ve already removed and licked the cream off the lid and am only just slightly bemused by the fact that I still prefer my drinks hot even in the summer.

The coffee shop in town roasts their own beans on the premises and the rumbling of it mingles with the scent of sea salt off the Puget Sound while bits of coffee chaff pepper my paper.  You’d think this would be the quintessential opportunity for a blog post or an article or two to come scratching forth from my mechanical pencil but instead I sit here thinking, “Hmmm….” and “Well….” and “Ok then….” 

I think of the woman who on Twitter thanks the Lord for dozens of books published and hundreds of ideas she has no time to write.  I think of unfollowing her, and I’m thankful for the interruption of a blushing preteen boy trying to turn off his mother’s car alarm with fumbling fingers.

It’s been a float/flounder/follow sort of season this year.  It’s sort of like having a very full mind but nothing to say, a little cagey.  Is this what happens when babies stop arriving?  I wonder about that.  My children are growing–it is delightful.  I try to suck in and soak up and absorb as a sponge the days of chubby cheeks and cheeky behaviors but it is much like holding water in my hands.

Maybe it’s time to nurture myself more, let me grow, remember the kid in me that likes Cadbury’s Flake bars and the smell of real wooden number two pencils.  The grown-up part of me can say no to the discontents, the discouragers, the negativity, the crazy expectations, the rolling eyes and those mean girls that used to call me names in middle school but somehow have just turned up wearing other people’s faces.  I can say “ta-ta!” to all of that and still laugh at the days to come.

I watch a man from the restaurant next door take out the garbage in a big black bag to be taken to parts unknown, never to touch his hands again.  I trust Jesus to take out my garbage, too, to bury them at sea, that awful sign of judgment that came once before.  I never want to see Him as irrelevant, unknowable, mythical.  Faith like a child suits me, I’m finding.

I watch the tree swallows swoop around zipping dragonflies as I finish off my mocha and prepare for the bike ride home.  I sure wish I could have thought of something to write…

Lessons From Zephaniah

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…or, Help in a Stressed Marriage…

As mentioned in a previous post, there are times that sin and/or disagreement puts stress on a marriage.  As daughters of Eve, we women are tempted to “fix” things in ways that sound and look reasonable, but as Christians (adopted as daughters of God, through Jesus Christ), our call is to trust God, overcoming those temptations to nag or fight or even leave with the power of the Word.  Some might call that being a doormat.  I call it living in victory and fighting the devil for the sake of our marriage.  I am, after all, planning our 50th wedding anniversary party that’s coming in 31 years.

The best place to be when things get hard is in the Word of God.  Because All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness (2 Tim 3:16)…well, you could be anywhere in the Bible and if you’re saved, God will use it to teach you.  Anywhere, like even in the tiny book of Zephaniah.


Zephaniah 1:7   Hold thy peace at the presence of the Lord GOD…
The Lord’s given you peace.  Hold onto it.  Watch that tongue, that wagging thing with the power of life or death within it.  Don’t trade that peace like a river for volcanic lava on a low simmer.

Zephaniah 2:3   Seek ye the LORD, all ye meek of the earth, which have wrought his judgment; seek righteousness, seek meekness: it may be ye shall be hid in the day of the LORD’S anger. 
Seek the Lord, seek righteousness, seek humility.  If your husband is in sin, the Lord will deal with it.  If you try to “fix” him, you may make a hash of everything.  Remember Rebecca?  How she tried to obtain the blessing for Jacob while Isaac was going to sin in blessing Esau?  Was she blessed?  Remember Sarah?  How she tried to “help” God by obtaining a son for Abraham outside of her own womb?  Listen, God knows what’s going on, God will deal with it, and He doesn’t need your “help”.

Zephaniah 3:2   She obeyed not the voice; she received not correction; she trusted not in the LORD; she drew not near to her God.
Is the sin your husband in any greater than the sin of going your own way, of demanding that God explain Himself in these matters, that He fix things *right now*?

Zephaniah 3:8   Therefore wait ye upon me, saith the LORD…
If all things are in God’s hands, if He can turn even the hearts of kings and control the wind and the waves, if all things are light and momentary and this life is but a vapor…then waiting upon the Lord in trust is the very least of what we owe our King of Kings.

Zephaniah 3:14   Sing, O daughter of Zion; shout, O Israel; be glad and rejoice with all the heart, O daughter of Jerusalem. 
Gratitude is the heart’s praise, it is said.  Instead of stewing, find things to think on that are edifying. Sing a hymn, read a psalm, start a blessings list.  We are not owed anything at all, but we are to be thankful in all things.  
Philippians 4:8   Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. 

Zephaniah 3:15   The LORD hath taken away thy judgments, he hath cast out thine enemy…
Think on the cross.  You were once an enemy of God, rejecting His commandments and rebelling against Him.  You can forgive your husband because God forgave you.  Because of this, divorce amongst Christians ought to be very, very (very) rare.  
Romans 5:8   But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. 

Zephaniah 3:16 ….Let not thine hands be slack. 
Stay busy about the business God has given you.  Love your children, keep your home, fix the meals.  If the TV causes you to brood, turn it off.  If time on the internet causes you to neglect your family, cut it out.  Just do the next thing, and try to find some joy in the fact that you are able to even participate in God’s world and work.

Zephaniah 3:17   The LORD thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing. 
In the midst of trials, there is nothing better than to be present in them with the Lord.  If we know all things work together for the good of them that love Him, if we know He cares about every hair on our head, then we can rest in that boat even on the days it looks like He is asleep in the back of it.


Going through trials?  Stay in His Word, and trust Him.


Blessings,

Hours in the Kitchen?

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I recently read a comment about how preparing and eating healthy food sounds like a good idea, but this particular person didn’t want to spend “hours in the kitchen”. I do find it curious that activities such as cooking (and exercise for that matter) that foster good health typically have a bit of dread involved, or *suffering*. I mean, why wouldn’t we want to spend “hours in the kitchen” if it meant more money in the wallet now and less disease later? (And why does it have to such a woeful thing to take a half hour walk every day?) In any case, I was curious. How much time do I spend in the kitchen?

This morning I walked into my kitchen around 8:15am. We actually used to eat at 8:00, but I soon figured out that we all like sleep, especially in late fall when the sun doesn’t even begin to show itself until 7:30am. And anyway, we don’t have a bus to catch. Photobucket

So, in a nutshell, this is what I did this morning:

  • fed my sourdough starter
  • refilled my wheat berry jar
  • checked on the meat for tonight
  • decided on lunch
  • made up a fresh eggnog for hubby’s out-the-door smoothie (and for me, too!)
  • took my supplements
  • helped my 10yo empty the dishwashers (we have two)
  • and made pancakes (scroll down for recipe).

My heart and mind was also occupied with greeting my wee children and encouraging them to get dressed and “up and ready” for their day, and checking in with the morning animal care.

That bit was 55 minutes long; let’s call it an hour. Then we ate, and then my kids took care of cleaning up.

I returned to the kitchen two hours later. This is what I did then:

  • ground whole wheat berries into flour and mixed and kneaded for my sourdough bread.
  • supervised and enjoyed my children’s candlemaking craft (post and pics coming soon)
  • visited with a friend who stopped by (yay!) with boxes of empty jars for me (yay!)
  • made tuna chowder for lunch (scroll down for recipe)
  • ate with the children and our guest
  • cleaned up the dishes

That portion was three hours long. I don’t know how much time I spent visiting or eating, so that’s all in there, too (life is like, SO distracting when you have a blog to prep for) Photobucket

I returned two and a half hours later for the evening prep:

  • formed the bread loaf, preheated the oven, and after proofing the last time, baked the bread.
  • prepared our supper (meatballs, sweet potatoes, cucumber, and of course whole wheat sourdough bread with lots of pasture butter).
  • cleaned up the prep dishes

That took an hour and a half.

Somewhere after supper I visited with the third friend of the day in the very same kitchen, probably for another half hour.

Before bed I cleaned the dishes, counters and floors, and then decided on meals for tomorrow, soaking a bowl full of black beans. I also put away the sweet potatoes that weren’t quite ready for our meal (ah well…tomorrow we’ll eat it!).

That was another hour.

So there you have it: seven hours worth of work. And for what? Well….for meals that will fuel growing bodies, keep them healthy and taste delicious besides. For memories in creating amazing crafty messes. For a warm place to love friends who need a hug and offer prayer. For more money in our pockets because fresh food made from scratch is a better value. For a clean kitchen that I won’t dread coming into in the morning. I dunno. Maybe it is too long. But for what would I give it up? Store boughten bread?

Tomorrow won’t be so long. Oatmeal for breakfast practically cooks itself. Lunch will be leftover soup just reheated, with leftover bread from tonight. And supper? Chicken that will boil on its own in a pot, with black beans that will slowly cook for a nice side dish with the soft tacos we’ll have. All I’ll really have to make tomorrow is the tortillas. Some days are long in the kitchen, but others are much shorter.

I guess we all have to choose where we’ll spend our time. As for me, time in the kitchen is time well invested, and besides, the children always know where to find me.

OUR PANCAKES:

4 cups leftover whey from making Greek-style yogurt (you can use runny yogurt or buttermilk)
3 farm fresh eggs, separated
1 tsp sea salt
2 cups fresh ground whole wheat flour
2 cups rolled oats
1 stick unsalted butter, melted
1/2 cup coconut sugar
1 tsp vanilla (homemade)
3/4 cup shredded coconut

mix all ingredients but whip egg whites separately and fold into batter. Cook as you would other pancakes, and serve with organic maple syrup, homemade applesauce, and fresh raw milk to drink (if you’re blessed enough to have that!)

TUNA CHOWDER

Melt 4TB unsalted butter into pot (we happen to really like butter around here!).
Chop and saute: 2 leeks, 4 carrots, 4 ribs celery, 3 russet potatoes, 2 cloves garlic.
Add: 1 tsp kosher salt, black pepper, 1 cup wine, 2 bay leaves, and enough chicken stock to cover. I added a wee bit of dehydrated hot peppers.
After simmering and cooking veggies, add 5 cans unsalted tuna, 4 cups of milk/cream and a sprinkling of dill.

Mmm…

May the Lord bless your time in your kitchen!

Change of Seasons

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Since the miscarriage, I’ve been thinking lately how my life is changing seasons. I’m no longer the young woman taking my fertility and youth for granted. I’m also no longer the girl who was so challenged by what other people thought of me, it guided what I did, said and wore. I’m finally comfortable being the person that some people love (xo!), and the same person that others hate (xo to you, anyway!). I am learning to become more content every day with who God has made me to be, and it is a lovely and restful place to be.

So it seems appropriate as I think on things that the leaves outside are about all blown from the trees, and the smell of winter is in the air. Fall is bowing out, winter coming in. And God is so gracious in it all, directing and orchestrating changes both in creation and in me.

I feel I’ve been MIA in these Internet parts. All the blogs I used to read…I’ve sort of forgotten about them. I didn’t mean to. I just decided that not having the computer available when I want it was actually a blessing. And that I could actually do the things I was reading about others doing and blogging about. In fact, if after reading this post you want to turn off your own computer and go to work on your own projects…and then you forget to come back…I wouldn’t be offended. I’m definitely not a “stay on the computer” encourager!

One thing I’m doing more of is reading and writing snail mail letters. I love getting mail in the mailbox! It’s so lovely to see my writer’s handwriting, to steep a cup of tea and then just focus on my friend and her words. It’s so different than reading a blog-click-reading a blog-click-reading a blog… I know, I’m a dying breed. It’s ok. I don’t mind what others think 😉

I’ve been picking at projects here and there, mostly the ones that are stashed here and there. Seems I’m forever dreaming up new projects without completing the ones I’ve started. I think it’s time for a little discipline and to finish up some of these lovely things.

I have a lovely bump of Icelandic wool to spin, but first I needed to get the other spun wool off the bobbins. Like I said…unfinished projects!

One thing I did get done was to harvest a good bunch of herbs before the first frost was due to arrive. I was surprised at how nicely they dried just hanging in my kitchen; usually I use the dehydrator. I’ll have to crumble and jar these up soon, though, to avoid dust collecting on them. Or maybe I’ll just leave several bundles out for good smells and looks. I left the rest of the garden as is. I knew the first frost would kill the tumbling bright orange nasturtiums but I couldn’t bare to pull them out yet.

We’ve had lots of people over, some invited, some surprises, but always a great delight. We keep a puzzle out most of the year (not summer…that is outside season!) and our guests like to pick at them while they’re here. It’s surprising how a simple thing can open up someone to dialogue. Of course, it also helps that we don’t have a TV to distract anyone.

I managed to get some shopping done with my Mom when my parents came to visit. Shopping is not my favorite thing to do; I’m so picky about clothing (no plastic-wear, please) and it is so hard to find basic things to wear. If someone would open a shop that sold wonderful aprons and simple cotton shirts and long easy skirts and shawls for fall and woolen capes for winter and real wool/cotton leggings and homespun knitted socks…I’d be a customer for life!

With the colder weather outside, the board games are coming out more. And books. And elaborate train tracks and baking recipes.

And then, we did get hit not only with the first frost, but the first snow! We got 6-7 inches and the children were wild with pleasure in sledding and snowball fighting. Last year we got not even a single snowflake! Outside, the roads were slick and cluttered with abandoned cars. I was so thankful I had pre-bought snowpants and snow gloves for all of the children, just in case, during one of those rare shopping trips. It was nice to be comfortable in my home, not feeling “trapped” at all….of course it helped that we kept our power on the whole miraculous time. Our visitors from California, however, were freezing!

Our two does (far left and right) are (we hope) expecting kids next month sometime. If these gals actually give birth, it will be the first successful breeding we’ve ever had and what a joy that will be!

Staying snowed in with grandparents keeping the children occupied gave me opportunity to address our Christmas cards. Every year we receive less and less; folks either stop sending them or they transition to e-cards and such. I miss finding my mailbox full of cards, but I realize, as I’ve mentioned, I’m a dying breed of treasuring snail mail.

I’m already in the mood to decorate for Christmas. We bought the largest tree we’ve ever had, placed it in the middle of the room, and brought down boxes from the attic full of lights and sleigh bells and children’s Christmas books. If the Lord sees fit to sell our house this spring, this will be our last Christmas here. I want it to be nice.

So blessings to you, sweet readers! Make sure to make time to sit on the snow chairs your kids make and enjoy the other funny things they like to do.

Blessings,

A Soap Making Craze

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Maybe if I stay busy enough I won’t spend time wondering if I’m sad enough. Isn’t that weird? You all are so kind to me; thank you thank you thank you. I haven’t even deleted any emails yet; rereading your words and hymns is a great comfort. So, I’ve been on a soap making craze, and for the you-know-who’s in my life who want PICTURES and DIRECTIONS, here they are 🙂 Well, sort of. You have to get your own recipe.

Making soap is a little like making spaghetti. Every woman has her “own way” of “how it’s supposed to be done”. This is just how I’ve done it, and believe me, I’m no expert. But I am, however, a woman with lots of soap curing in my basement! There are a lot of soap recipes to choose from, but the basics are relatively the same. I’m going to show you the basics, and you can use whatever recipe you want.

The first thing I do is prepare my mold because then I won’t forget about doing it and panic when I have a pot of hot caustic soap to pour and nothing ready. My husband and son made wooden soap molds for me in 1lb, 2lb, and 4lb sizes. I like using wood because it absorbs the heat, but you can use glass or stainless steel containers or even clean milk cartons. Don’t use aluminum, though, because it can react to the lye. I like to line my molds with freezer paper (shiny side is soap side), but you could just use some sort of grease or whatnot. I like the paper because it gives me something to grab to pull my soap out with. Don’t use foil, though (aluminum…). I try to smooth the paper out so there aren’t a lot of creases, but I’m not too finicky. Does this sound complicated already? I hope not!

If I’m going to put in any textures like ground oatmeal or scents like lavender or colorants, I set those things up and have them at the ready to pour right where I’ll be mixing everything. That way I don’t have to stop to take off a lid at the point when everything’s moving quickly.

Next, I weigh my fats and oils. I love my digital scale! It’s so accurate and easy to use. Whatever fats and oils your recipe calls for, use. DON’T substitute until you are ready to come up with new recipes (using things like lye calculators), because different fats act and react differently. So find a recipe that uses ingredients you either have on hand or are willing to buy…some of which is cheap and some of which is definitely not. Different fats/oils have different lathering and moisturizing qualities, so you’ll just have to experiment to find what you like.

After weighing my fats and oils, I melt them gently over the stove top. You could use a microwave (carefully), but I wouldn’t want to use a microwave for at least a dozen reasons, including not being able to watch my melting. As soon as everything’s melted together, I turn off the heat and let it cool to about 100 degrees. I use a meat thermometer to gauge the temperature.

Now it’s time to mix the second batch: the liquid and the lye. A stainless steel pot (never aluminum…which you shouldn’t be using in your kitchen anyway, IMHO) cools down pretty quick so that is what I use. In this picture I used coffee because I was making a coffee soap for the kitchen. Always use distilled water as your base, whether you’re using it plain, or making a tea (or coffee!) for soap. Do NOT substitute dairy milk for your liquid; making milk soap entails specially preparing the milk (not horribly hard, but another step.) Again, weigh your water and then weigh your lye separately. When you are ready to add your lye to water (NEVER the other way around), PUT ON YOUR GOGGLES AND GLOVES. Once lye mixes with water it heats up very fast (like to 200 degrees!). Keep a window open (it will be gassy) and keep the children A-W-A-Y. As soon as the lye dissolves into your liquid (stir), put the pot into an ice bath to get it cooling. You want to bring the solution down to a range close to your fats temperature, 100 degrees. And don’t stress about using lye. Yes, it’s dangerous but so is bleach and gasoline and poopy diapers. Be smart about your movements (that is, pay attention) and wear those gloves and goggles.

Once the temperature has hit about 100 degrees, it’s time to mix the two batches together. Carefully pour the liquid/lye mix into the fats pot. And please make sure your immersion blender is IMMERSED before starting it up. Keep the thermometer in the pot and blend blend blend until it begins to thicken and the temperature goes up a couple of degrees. It can take like five or more minutes, but don’t be discouraged! In this picture it was just about ready; you can even see the “trace” which is the track the blender leaves as it moves in the pot. I like to blend on the floor because it gives me greater control.

After it’s ready (that is, the mix has moved up a couple of degrees in temperature), then is when I add my pretties: textures bits, scents, colors. I prefer a more natural product (that’s no surprise, huh?!) so I don’t use soap colorants, and I do use essential oils. For a one pound batch of soap, I use about 1/4 oz of essential oil (that’s like half a bottle!). For textures, I just sort of eye it and add about 1/3 cup or more until I like what I see. I blend the goodies in just until it’s mixed, really a few seconds. Don’t take too long because it will just be that much harder to get it all out.

It’s time to pour! I use a plastic spatula to get it all out. And yes, I use my regular kitchen ware for everything. I figure that’s what dishwashers are for, and I’ve never had a problem washing everything well. My friend used a baking dish, lined with freezer paper. Put your poured soap in a safe place where little hands (and bigger husbands) can’t bump into them.

After pouring it’s time to wash. And yes, keep those gloves and goggles on!!! You do not want lye-anything to splatter anywhere (it will burn but just rinse with water if you get some on your skin). After everything’s cleaned up, you are done for the day!

Find something else to do…

The next day, it’s time to cut soap! Put those gloves back on! Here is a handy-dandy cutter the men in my life made for me. I just pulled out my soap from the mold and then set it in the cutter, and used my bread scraper to cut.

Psssst. You don’t need a special cutter. You could even use a knife. In this picture you can see the soap is still a bit soft; I think it’s because of the coffee, but I don’t know. It still worked though. And you can smooth out the edges a bit with your gloved fingers at this time, too, if you have pokey edges.

Find a safe place to cure your soap (away from little hands…). You could use cookie cooling racks but whatever you use won’t be available for about a month. I use old trays and paper sacks as a liner, recording the kind and date. I flip my soap every few days or so. You can see how it’s drying already. The longer you cure your soap, the harder it will get. You can buy ph strips to see if your soap is “for sure” ready (that is, the lye is completely finished and won’t burn)…but I usually wait at least a month and go with it. I’ve never had a problem (not that there’s never a first…).

So here is all of my soap! Top left is 4lbs of rosemary shampoo bars, and underneath that is a pound of kelp/bay/peppermint/tea tree. Top right is a pound of oatmeal/calendula/chamomile/beeswax/honey. Right middle is a pound of coffee/cocoa (with coffee grounds, too!), and on the bottom right is lemon/lemongrass/lemon peel/poppyseed. And no, I’m not that creative. I just looked around websites that were selling soap and thought, “hey! That sounds like a good flavor! I’ll do that!” I don’t like using colorants, but you can see that just the additives alone colored the soaps nicely.

That’s it! If you’re new (or even not) to soap making, I recommend my very favorite soap making book ever; totally easy to understand and use:

Understand though, that making soap is a bit like making spaghetti…and you will find your own personal style and way of making it work. I, however, am done with soap for a while. Which is a good thing, because now I’m in the mood to make beauty products as my homemade moisturizer is almost out. Calendula is currently steeping in almond oil…and I am keeping busy.

May the Lord bless you,

Father and Son(s)

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One thing I really appreciate about my husband is his heart to disciple and build relationship with his own sons. He realizes that these boys are going to grow up to be men, and the best thing he can do is to keep them as much as possible by his side to work and play. These boys are learning from their daddy what it means to be a hard-working and loving family man, not from the TV (where men are often portrayed as buffoons), and certainly not from their peers (blind leading the blind there!).

Here you can see both my husband and oldest son (9) working together to produce his podcast, Spinal Column Radio. My son feels so important, so valued that his daddy wants him to be there.

I know this is a hard thing for a lot of people, our family included. Men of today were just not brought up day after day under their own father’s wings, and their fathers were not discipled by their fathers either. At some point, however, some man during some generation will need to put the brakes on the statist idea that children don’t need their parents. My husband decided that he would be the one. So he brings his son alongside, stumbles a bit, and tries again. My son is learning a lot about work, about grace. He is learning, also, how to be a father to our grandchildren.

And I, as a wife and mother, am learning to keep the whole matter in prayer! I cannot *push* my husband to do such things. But God is faithful to turn his heart as I trust His ways.

My 3 year old son is already close to his daddy’s side as well. He has great dreams of doing a “monkey podcast”. And knowing Tom, the website and plans are probably already in the works.

May the Lord bless the men in your life!

Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus

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I believe it was Matthew Henry who said something akin to when God sends mouths, He sends meat. We have seen this time and again in terms of provision in all things, and are so thankful for every bit of it. Lately, we’ve been drowning in bananas of all things. A friend of ours works at a food bank, and they couldn’t give away all of the donations. So we accepted three full cases of very ripe, organic bananas and got going! We dehydrated a (ahem) bunch of them and even so the children are eating them up so fast I doubt any will be left by Thanksgiving. The rest were peeled and put into the freezer for smoothies.

I guess I should mention that there were probably about half a dozen other cases that my friends got as well. It’s a great time to deal with cases of produce! You could talk to your grocer about getting a discount on whatever is cheap and local right now, and fill up your pantry and freezer, too. Then, in the middle of winter you won’t be stuck with produce that traveled thousands of miles and lost all its taste and nutrient value in the process.

The barn(ette) building continues. My husband (unlike myself) doesn’t do anything halfway, so when I asked for “some doors” to close the stalls up if needed, this is what he did:

Aren’t they beautiful? I just love ’em! The other side of the barn is still unfinished; we are going to build a nice rabbitry there with an open pen to take the critters out for sunshine and playtime. There will also be room for animal feed and places to raise chicks and whatnot. There is a loft up above for hay storage, barn cats (when they come), and nooks to read a good book in.

I am finding myself outside still a lot as well. The kitchen garden is getting cleaned up. I know I still have remnants of flowers and so forth producing, but the weather is changing and if the garden isn’t cleaned up now, I’ll have nothing but slimy black vines to deal with next month and that appeals so me less than avoiding work now. Garlic is in for next year already.

Tuesday I got into the bee hives with my mentor (God bless that woman!). And, lo and behold, we got a harvest on our first year! It isn’t much, just a couple of full frames, but we were both very excited as others we know got nothing at all. My mentor is a believer as well, so we had a fabulous time praising God and watching these sweet honeybees doing their God-given work. I really, really wish I could put the scent of this honey onto all of your computer screens. You may end up keeping honeybees as well! After all, they’re in your garden anyway, may as well be yours!

Well, the children are up now and joining me in their pajamas. My girls are chatting with their Bibles and journals, and my son is dilly-dallying with the kitty. I’m looking out a thick grayish blue fog outside, the stately pines looking like black paper cut-outs in the sky (oh, that’s another project I’ll share with you soon!). It’s time for me to go nurse my baby, feed the animals, and snuggle in for another day keeping the home. I am truly blessed.

Fully Awake and Sober

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Titus 2:12  Teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world…

Sobriety has been much on my mind lately.  I am not speaking of declining a glass of wine (that’s a whole other theological issue that I am unfit to debate) but rather the grave and serious attentiveness that  being a keeper at home must cultivate in order to manage her home well.

To live soberly means to be : regular, calm; not under the influence of passion; as sober judgment; a man in his sober senses (Websters 1828).   It means going about your business with seriousness and faith, and goes along with speaking forth words of truth (Acts 26:25, 1 Tim 3:11), and thinking humbly of yourself (Rom 12:3).

I think sobriety is lacking where flippant attitudes reign, whether in regards to child raising, homeschooling, or homekeeping . It roots well in discontent and discouragement, and cultivates a silliness about the divine tasks we are called to do.  As a personal example, I found myself on a regular basis continuing to put a bag of white refined sugar into my shopping cart for baking needs.  Now, this is shameful for me, given that I have received degrees and much education in the field of nutrition.  My base attitude has been one of “ah well……” and it should be no surprise to me when my children are willing to practically walk over glass to get their “treats”.  My duty is to train them up to crave wholesome, nutritious foods.  My laziness and complacency encourages otherwise.

It is easy to fall into.  If we cannot have our state of perfection, then we shall content ourselves with less than we are able.  If others find our successes inspiring, we fear lack of companionship and will tone them down.  It is enough to put it all aside and simply coast.

So I find myself needing to do much work about the home and in my mind.  The month of August looks frightening on my calendar.  Between signing up for another two weeks of swim lessons for the children and visiting grandparents and the upcoming county fair we are involved with and the dairy goats who may or may not be having babies (because no one seems to be able to tell if a goat is expecting or not)…..well, the month is full of getting-into-the-car type of travel and uncertain events.  It is difficult for me to keep house when I am not there.  Sobriety demands I consider my ways in the events and commitments I fast myself to.

The month is also full of mental work.  I need to plan out my homeschooling for the next year, work on my masters project, and continue to learn new and better ways to homestead and homekeep, not to mention training up the children in ways they ought to go.    Sobriety calls me to put aside the things that steal my time as little foxes run the vines, and before I am aware the hours are spent in carelessness.  It is difficult for me to keep house when I am not *there* mentally, also.

Sobriety means putting aside my own wants, and working for God’s glory and the good and benefit of my family.  Ironing may have to wait when the 5yo needs my loving attention.  I may have to stop washing dishes to change the 3yo’s soiled pants.  The computer is an especial handicap, awaiting me when I *finally* get the children to bed, as if the time spent reading, praying and snuggling with them are secondary.

It is an easy test.  Gladness in my spirit usually accompanies much when the duties are wholesome and good, even if they be small, of no great occasion, and attended only by small children.  Time spent is exactly such:  spent.  Let us not waste the mercies and grace of our God in giving us another fresh day, hour or minute!  We must remember that to be sober is what God calls us to be (see 1 Tim 3:10, Titus 2:4, 1 Peter 1:13, 1 Peter 5:8), and even through this, He will preserve the faithful(Ps 31:23).

We are too fond of our own will.  We want to be doing what we fancy mighty things; but the great point is to do small things, when called to them, in a right spirit.
Richard Cecil

1 Thessalonians 5:6   Therefore let us not sleep, as do others; but let us watch and be sober.

From No House to Two House(s)

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When I don’t know what to do, I play and pray.

 

This is a continuation of finding our home. You can read part I here, and part II here.

********

I had to call the seller back. She had left me not one, but two voicemails. I took my cell phone to the highest location in the house to ensure a decent reception and took a deep breath.

We got down to business quickly. Instead of answering her inquiry, I asked if I might read our letter instead. I could hear her murmmered affirmations as I was reading, but once I got to the offering price I could hear the air suck in on the other side of the wire. I quickly assured her that, as Christians, we both know our sovereign God ordains all things, and that this transaction was obviously not in God’s will for either of our families. She agreed, and we parted amiably.

Back to searching real estate. After eight years of renting and over a year of earnestly looking for a home to buy, it was hard to be persistent. At this point we called our realtor (again) and got the whole process rolling (again) in our own community. Actually, it’s been a whole lot of again-ing since we moved out of the big house. Anyhow, we found maybe four houses to go look at. They were either seriously lacking in repair (not to mention level foundations), but had scrubby land attached, or they were clean and ready to move in, but had tiny backyards (which do I put in: a playset or a garden?).

That weekend, we visited a tidy home in a cul-de-sac, 35 minutes away from my husband’s work. It was a lovely home, but came with restrictions such as no visible clotheslines, and no dogs left outside in the evenings. I wasn’t sure how my old, large, livestock, outdoor-only dog would acclimate to a garage with a roof and walls, but we could afford this house so we joined thirteen other interested parties. We put in an offer over list, and our realtor even donated part of his own commission to make our offer look better. I think after all this time, he was just as motivated to get us into a house already!

Two days later, I was on the acupuncturist’s table when I got the call from the realtor. My practitioner and I listened on speaker.

“Arnie, I am literally on pins and needles here. Tell me.”

“Well, there was another offer on the house, and unfortunately, you were outbid.”

*sigh*

“Oh kay…”

“BUT.”

“But?”

“But they chose your family anyway.”

(eyes blinking rapidly now)

“What?”

“Yeahhh, they were just excited about having your family in their home. So they took your lower offer. Congratulations!”

Celebrations all around! Get the needles out of me and let me run home!

Tom and I signed all of the paperwork and we shared the news with our friends and family. We were very much in awe that a seller would take the lowest offer just to have children in a house, and so thankful, praising the Lord.

Two mornings later, I wrote out the earnest money check to take to the title company. We were really moving (AGAIN), but this time into our own home, not a rental. My phone rang, and I recognized the number. It was the seller of the old cedar house with the rambling property on acreage.

“Hi! It’s so nice to hear your voice! How are you?”

“Oh, Keri! I am such an idiot! This house belongs to you and your family! I can’t believe I let money get in the way of that and I am so sorry!”

(eyes blinking rapidly now, again)

“But…but remember our conversation? How it wasn’t God’s will? It’s ok! You’ll find a buyer and you’ll get every penny your family deserves. It will sell in days! And….I need to tell you. We already put in an offer for another house…and it was accepted.”

I could hear her own eyes blinking. The two most miserable people now, one on each line, heavy. She offered half a dozen scenarios that sounded implausible to me, but how could I just say no?

“Let me see what can be done,” I said.

Let’s Have Tea and Conversation

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Home is where the bread is baked.

The gravel road through the evergreens and maples is quite long, half a mile, in fact. Recent rains hollowed out generous potholes, so those will need minding. At the end of the road and through two large posts, you’ll have an even narrower gravel and grass road to navigate around the rolling pasture and its fencing (don’t hit your side mirror!). At the top of the hill, you’ll see our home. It’s all cedar and looks as if it rose right from the forest floor. Watch the chickens and ducks as you arrive—they think they own the road.

Now, once you get out of your car, you could walk the crumbly path and then climb the stairs to the double front doors—they are a ripe red just like the apples growing here in autumn. But likely you’ll meander to the side door across the grassy strip, the “friend door”, the one that opens straight into the kitchen where the woodfire stove is burning and the tea kettle is piping. That’s where I am, anyway.

And that’s where I’ve been now for four months (yes, mostly in the kitchen). Most of the boxes are unpacked and we’ve cozied in for the winter before tackling the larger jobs of organizing storage areas, cleaning out the pole barn, replacing the roof. I’m glad you’re here. Let’s sit on stools over the brick floor and warm our hands over our mugs and chat. I’m sure you’ll have questions, but let me begin…

We needed to move from our last rental, a large, sprawling, yellow house on top of a steep hill on acreage. The owners were beyond generous in allowing us to stay in a house they were hoping to sell, and three years had gone by (and we all know what two of those years brought upon us all). I began packing boxes last spring, hoping another house would show up, affordable and reasonable for our family. I wasn’t encouraged by the real estate market; we live in a rural area that is growing from folk coming (escaping?) from the city, and they had no qualms of offering extravagant contracts over and above asking prices. That, and the downturn from construction due to the lockdowns, meant inventory was low, so buyer desperation and house values escalated. Rentals were non-existent for a family our size, and besides, even a two bedroom, two bathroom apartment was now renting for $2200 a month. After 26 years of living here, we were effectively priced out of our own community. But still I packed boxes. Books, first. So, so many books. I do downsize them…but they have babies and multiply when I’m not looking.

I should mention also that in the year previous, we had bought some property in which to build. However, the beavers on the land won and effectively negated our ability to build anything whatsoever. Who but the Lord could have provided a “beaver fanatic expert scientist and writer” to enthusiastically relieve us of that land, albeit at a steep discount?

Meanwhile, Bible study continued in our home. The ladies and I were studying through 1 and 2 Kings, eating our treats and drinking our tea and lifting up all of our needs in prayer, including for a home for my family. I didn’t mean to be discouraged, but truthfully I was weary of moving every two-three years and didn’t think I could do even one more move!

My husband and I decided to consider moving out of the area. The housing market was one reason, but it was also tempting to leave the high cost of living and increasing crime. We also realized our small business was at risk of getting closed down due to our government’s mandates (how long would we be deemed “essential”?) Maybe, we too, would become part of the river of escapees from our state.

We took many trips over the next couple of months to Texas, where our daughter and her family live. After all, if you’re going to make such a giant leap, at least jump towards where like minded family (and grandchildren) live. We found a wonderful realtor and looked in many areas. Meanwhile, all of the other questions had to be answered: do we start a new business there? Do we first move half our family and have Daddy join us later? How how how? Meanwhile, pack, pray, pack, pray, (laugh, cry)…

We finally put an offer on a small, modern white farmhouse down a quiet country road in east Texas, and negotiated for the acreage behind it. It was accepted, and we began the transition in earnest. I began sewing a few tops in lightweight fabric for my new climate, and downsized our home goods even more, getting furniture ready to sell. It was scary. It was exciting.

It was not to be.

The day before our contract commenced with “no going back”, my husband changed his mind. And just like that, we were back to square one.

More to come. Refresh your tea.

Clearing the Road

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1 Thessalonians 4:11-12   And that ye study to be quiet, and to do your own business, and to work with your own hands, as we commanded you; That ye may walk honestly toward them that are without, and that ye may have lack of nothing.

The driveway climbing up to our house needs clearing. The first rains of autumn have fallen and with it, small branches, leaves, and abandoned nests, cluttering up the skinny road snaking through the evergreens and maples. I send my teenaged son out to do it. I hear him make his way down the hill, slowly blowing all of the debris back into the woods. Suddenly, I feel old. Like too old to do the job myself, like I’ve become one of those folks who need to call on the young’uns to do the physical labor now. When he returns, I tell him so. He reminds me I am–after all–about to become a grandmother, so it figures. Well, maybe it does.

I remember carrying him in my womb, and how at the end of the pregnancy I rode in the passenger seat of our low Honda Civic while my husband flew down the hilly gravel road. Back and forth, daily, for ultrasound stress tests to negotiate one more day to wait past our due date. Despite all of the rattling of the roads, that boy managed to stay right where he was for another eighteen days.

And that was the time I wrote my first blog post.
And now this is the time I write my last one.

It has long been time for me to work more quietly, perhaps obviously so as my efforts to continue here have been limp at best. My blog has become that yellowed taped up box in the corner of the attic; important enough to keep, but neglected enough to testify to its true importance in this season of my life. So I am hauling it out of the dark, brushing it off, blessing it for the companionship its given me over the years, and letting it go.

To do what? I’m not altogether sure I have anything in particular to do, other than what I’ve already been doing: spending time with Tom, raising children, homemaking, gardening, feeding my family and homeschooling. I am still insatiably curious: I’ve been writing poetry, art journaling, painting, horse riding, and weaving. I’m still studying my Bible, and taking a multitude of online classes. I even wrote a book (four years ago!) and maybe…maybe…someday it will get to market. Or not. All I know is that today, the sky cleared up enough for me to send the boy out to clear the road. I don’t borrow trouble from tomorrow.

I don’t know what happens technically from here. If I take the blog down, does the podcast disappear? Does it matter? I don’t know. All I know is that I just needed to write one more post with a decent goodbye attached instead of disappearing into “I wonder whatever happened to”.

If you’d like to stay in touch, you can follow me on Instagram; I’m currently there mostly for the creative outlet. If you’ve followed me long enough, you know how I dip into and out of projects; I’m not promising I’ll stay there forever or that I’ll never start another blog again.

Seasons come and seasons go. I just wanted to thank you all so very much for your kind readership over the years, and for encouraging me in the faith. I am still keeping my eyes on Jesus, and I pray that you, too, will find your peace and deepest joy in doing the same.

Many blessings,

On Being a Grandmother

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“We live in a culture that has lost its memory. Very little in the specific shapes and traditions of our grandparents’ pasts instructs us how to live today, or tells us who we are or what demands will be made on us as members of society.”

Gretel Ehrlich

The Solace of Open Spaces

Last Thursday, Tom and I traveled to that enormous land called Texas to spend time with our eldest daughter and son-in-law, and to be of whatever help we could be over the weekend. Tom busied himself with numerous needed repairs and projects around the house, and enjoyed several short walks to the home improvement store. My daughter and I visited a few nurseries and came home with the beginnings of a salsa garden: tomatoes, chilies, cilantro, and peppers. Strawberries and flowers also found their way into our little boxes, and we spent a lovely afternoon in the soil planting hope. I left for home on Monday, satisfied that perhaps the fingerprints we left were a blessing.

Also. We are going to be grandparents. I am going to be a grandmother. I keep saying this to myself, trying it on. It’s not a bad fit, methinks; it’s just new. Folks want to know what I’m going to be called. How does one name oneself?

My only experience with grandmothers are the two very different women I had in very short stints in my life: one, an American who grew up during the Depression and would only rarely talk of her upbringing on the edges of a history that took persistent prodding and extremely careful listening. The other, a Greek woman who lived deep in the Peloponnesian mountains (which took arduous hours of driving steep and windy and narrow mountain gravel roads), with whom language barriers left conversations unspoken. But I still remember as a young girl always–always–the delight in these women’s eyes when they saw me and how they appreciated my company. It was always easy for me to be with either of them.

Baking bread at the outdoor oven with my Yia Yia and little brother.

Well, I don’t live in remote mountains (yet) and I didn’t have a difficult childhood (thankfully). Also, neither of them were still raising their own children when I showed up, so that is also different. I still have seven children at home. I don’t have a rich history from either woman to draw from, whether it be traditions or beliefs or even what their own deep thoughts and dreams were. That, to me, is a very real and sorry American sort of individualism, but there we are. What I can do in our current life is continue to plant seeds of love wherever my grandchildren are, and hope to have as beautiful of a memory in their hearts when I, too, am gone. God may be gracious and allow those humble offerings to be enough, no matter where they all end up living.

Blessings,

 

Time to Load the Van

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And what kind of habitation pleases God? What must our natures be like before He can feel at home with us? He asks nothing but a pure heart and a single mind. He asks no rich paneling, no rugs from the Orient, no art treasures from afar. He desires but sincerity, transparency, humility, and love.

A. W. Tozer

The van clattered down the steep driveway with dishes sliding about within boxes of charity donations. I’ve lost count over the years since our initial downsize how many full vehicles we’ve taken to the charity shops, and I am still astounded we have more to part with. Certainly, packages still arrive in our home over time: home goods, groceries, gifts, and donations (“because you’ve got a big family and could use this”) but the trickle of such has slowed considerably over the years and I’m convinced stuff multiplies on its own overnight.

Perhaps it is the current hunting for house plans and furthering the development of our property, but the fire in my belly for paring down has been hot. It has been fueled by many books I’ve read and very much resonated with, not only on downsizing, but on minimalism. I’m inspired by the lifestyles of people such as Yumiko Sekine, Mark and Sally Bailey, and Steve and Brooke Giannetti. The photographs of rooms that really get my attention are neutral toned in color, full of light and texture and space (even on the shelves). These homes also have carefully curated and/or handmade items, and evoke a sense of peace, retreat, relaxation and simplicity. Those are the kinds of spaces where I can think, pursue interests, relate, pray, and simply Be. Sometimes when I look around at our own stuff, what I sense instead is unnecessary work, burden, upkeep, and guilt.

The useless work for me comes from having too much of anything. It requires more cleaning, dusting, and space to store—which requires ongoing money (which takes more needless work) to pay for that rental or mortgage space it is taking up. The burden comes from obligations to other people to take their things or to keep their gifts. The upkeep is in maintaining repairs or mendings or, dare I say, a visual representation of the kind of person I’d like other people to think I am by what I have and show. And the guilt? The weighty files and files and files of papers, shelves of books, and half-finished projects in bins that I’ll read or need or complete “someday” and all of the “should’s” associated with them.

At the end of the day, sometimes I am exhausted simply by being the presence of so many objects and not enough open space. So, I crawl through the closets, the shelves, the cabinets, the storage bins, asking myself questions such as:

Do I like this (do I even remember I had it)? And if so…why then is it hiding in a closet, storage bin, file cabinet, or the back of a drawer? How can I bring it out to the light and display it or use it or wear it? Can I use that lovely bowl as a flower vase? Or that scarf as a tabletop cloth? Can I frame that photograph and hang it up? Can I bring it into a seasonal rotation into the house or on my body? Do I even want to?

Is this still useful to me? If so…when is the last time I used it? If it went away tomorrow, and I needed it again, would I be willing to purchase it again? Is there anyone else who would love it and use it even today? And, if it’s so useful, why haven’t I worn it, changed the batteries, made the repair, upgraded its system or patched the holes?

Am I keeping this “just in case”? In case of what? If it’s for my children, how emotionally invested am I that they will take, keep, and love this thing? If it’s for an emergency situation, do I know how to use it, cook it, and maintain it? Am I willing to bring it into our normal routines or into my wardrobe rotation? Can I even name half of the items I’ve donated in the past that I originally kept “just in case”?

Is there a “should” associated with keeping this? Is there a sunk cost, a heirloom, or outside pressure to find room in our house and heads for this thing? If this thing were to get stolen or lost in a fire, would I be grieved…or relieved? Am I worried anyone would think my house was too dark, too light, too full, too empty, too fancy, too plain?

Lastly, when I look into a room, how do I feel? Do I feel peaceful? Does my home feel like the retreat I want it to be? Is it a place that allows for curiosity and new learning situations? If not…then I’m not finished downsizing and curating yet.

Does your house match up with how you want to feel? Maybe, unlike me, you want it to feel full and and find energy in that. Maybe you love the rich feel of a library with a dark ceiling and thousands of books because it makes you want to curl up with a cat and a good book. Or maybe you need a bedroom with absolutely nothing but a bed and a pile of wrinkled linens to feel restful. Whatever it is, I find that this is one of the funnest (and most challenging) parts of homemaking: creating a home where values such as sincerity, transparency, humility, and love take a greater stage and importance than whatever objects we have or have not. Remember, your home is supposed to be serving you. If you are instead serving your home, perhaps it’s time to load up the van.

Blessings,

Inside Work

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I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him,
the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing.
John 15:5  

 

When I published the book PRESENT in 2015, it came after a season of raw and plain consideration of how distracted I was from what in my heart I wanted more than anything else in the world: to follow Jesus and to do His work in the world. And I found that many of the people I wanted to love and many of the activities I wanted to do had taken a backseat to other good, yes even purposeful, projects that kept my eyeballs on a screen rather than on the prize.

Is it ironic that I find myself here again?

It is not the screen tangling me up as much as it is the amount of outside work I have allowed to creep into my hours. And therein lies the crux of the matter: what qualifies as “outside work”? What is “inside work”?

Inside work is the work I understand God has called me to do, quite plainly in Scripture. Inside work is accomplished with the tools and talents He has gifted me with, and done for His purposes in faith, even if I cannot see the results of that work in the time frame I hope for or expect. That work much of the time is unseen and unappreciated by the world, even as it enjoys and benefits from its fruit.

Outside work is the work that diminishes the primary work in any way, whether physically (I’m not actually there), mentally (my mind is elsewhere), or emotionally (my heart is not present).

What is the work God has called me to do during this time in my life?

More than anything else, God has called me to faithfulness to Him. This means that my primary activity, the one thing that surpasses absolutely anything and everything else in my entire day, is to devote myself to Him through the study of His Word and in prayer. Spending the first of my day with Jesus encourages me to think His thoughts throughout the day, and equips my heart and mind to not only walk in wisdom and truth during the day, but to worship His goodness in my every circumstance. If my devotional life is lacking in any way, if your devotional life is lacking in any way, it is time to submit and let Jesus lead me (and you) to quiet waters.

Considering I still have all nine children at home, many of whom are young adults, I still have opportunity (and the gift, really) of not only training them up, but speaking into their lives. Two of those children have Down syndrome, and that is an entirely different world in the realm of teaching and training. I find this privilege of being with my children pressing on my heart in the best possible way: that I have mere moments left in this vapor life to not only teach them about Jesus, but to show them in reality what following Him and what reflecting His goodness looks like in all practicality.

Managing my home—and what a blessing, to have a home!—is also a priority. It’s what I want to do, even in my heart of hearts. I do not see my home as simply a container for things or a place to sleep. Rather, it is the seedbed for furthering His kingdom through the witness of the gospel. This means my home is orderly, peaceful, purposeful, and full of people at all times. It is a welcoming place, a nourishing place, and a safe place. There is comfortable room not only for all of our bodies (I know you hear me, decluttering friends), but for intellectual and creative growth. I know that in our day and time I do not have to make broth, soap or bubble baths for the babies. But I want to, and it’s those little seemingly insignificant things that go by the wayside when time presses in to meet other outside deadlines and commitments.

Caring for myself is also an “inside work”, for if I am ill or otherwise unhealthy, how will I with mental clarity and physical stamina be able to do any of the work He asks of me? What sort of witness will I be for my growing children, or for my grandchildren? How will I be able to continue supporting my husband in his work? I for one can be rather blind to how my body is being affected from physical challenges such as difficult childbirths, three cesearean sections, or moving three times in five years, not to mention the stress of everything in between. Whether good stress or bad stress, all take a toll that none of us can ignore, and I must take care with my physical body the best I am able. I am certain healthy living has been brought to the forefront with the current pandemic. As my husband relays, as much as you are able, “Be hard to kill.”

Friend, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your visit here, for entering into my little world and for listening to or reading my contemplations. At this time I find I need to withdraw and feed my prayer life and private journal with those contemplations, and to continue fostering those limited face-to-face and snail mail relationships. I find that I must choose between continuing to do all things fair to middling, or to do less with excellence. Today, I choose excellence.

Should you desire to keep in touch, please sign up for my email list. I cannot and do not promise any sort of regular communication, but that is where you will find me should I have anything to share. I have another book already written and may end up sending out a chapter at a time for feedback. I may end up closing my Etsy shop and instead offer a handwoven item for sale through my mailing list. Who knows? The blog will stay up for a time, but most likely not permanently as keeping a website does take time and attention.

I pray God will not only supply all your needs, but as Elizabeth Elliot once wrote, you will allow Him to judge what those true needs are. If anything is lacking in your wholehearted devotion to His service, may this post be an encouragement that it is not too late to take your heart and your life to Him. May He lead you beside those quiet waters too, friend. After all, He is the Good Shepherd; let Him do His inside work.

Blessings,

One Response: Plant a Garden and Drink Tea

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It is instructive to watch the response of our media, government, and population to this pandemic and to take note. Actually, to take many notes. But that note taking needs to be done calmly and rationally, and I hope that what I share here will help in some way.

As a herbalist I use food and plants for our nourishment and medicine, and as a member and chapter leader of the Weston A Price Foundation, I prepare food traditionally and mostly from scratch, using and benefiting from the Foundation’s wise and proven principles. I’m aware of the importance for disaster preparation, and although I am not as prepared as I wish we were (will we ever be?), I keep a good stock of first aid supplies and freeze dried foods, mostly made by Thrive Life (you also can order through my account or even become your own boss using my ID number 32981).

When you have your food and medicine and supplies at hand, trials feel a little less bumpy. If you are starting from scratch, read my last blog post and begin today to address each area in which you are lacking. You are not powerless; you know how to read and you can start.

But I do understand inertia, and it is very, very real. After we downsized from our big house and farmette with its established gardens and livestock areas, it was almost impossible to start any semblance of a garden anywhere else. I tried, planting a little here and there, but once I got my game back on after a postpartum period, we ended up having to move again. So, three houses in five years doesn’t help me to feel real motivated to get digging into the soil.

But here we are. Motivated or not, reality says a garden–any garden of any size–is better than no garden. I have knowledge and experience, and (some) seeds. I decided what made the most sense to grow, and yes that included cut flowers. I especially considered medicinal plants and other foods that I couldn’t necessarily buy from the grocery store, but would add variety to our diet and thrive in our growing zone. So I brushed off the two trays I still had and got started. And then, we headed outside.

The old orchard is a mess. I have zero idea when the fruit trees were last pruned, and there are suckers and shoots everywhere, not to mention a massive invasion of blackberry vines (but, yay, blackberries!). There is no real large area for a massive garden in the traditional sense, but with a little bit of thinking, I can see potential.

Here is an area that is mostly cleaned up. Do you see what I see? A well pruned cherry tree, and terraces. Good morning light that I know will extend into afternoon. An empty bucket begging for something to climb up the gateway. Potential. So even though I’m not spending my 50th birthday doing what I originally planned (sniff), I can do what I can do. And I can do this.

What can you do? Surely there is something, and you probably know what it is (am I right?).

In other news, here are some resources that you may find helpful in navigating how to prevent and address any virus at all. I feel blessed we can have access to books and the internet to help us learn and apply what we are learning. Stay home, stay cozy, and stay safe, friends.

FOOD:

From Sally Fallon Morell, How to Protect Yourself from Coronavirus

HOMEOPATHY:

The Banerji homeopathic protocol
These are well respected doctors who have been treating generations of patients with homeopathy and currently see around 6,000 patients a week in their clinic. This is their protocol for prevention. For treatment, symptoms would guide further remedy choices. You can also check out Joette’s blog and use the search bar for many symptoms and protocols to help you wisely choose remedies.

HERBS:

Rosalee de la Floret, Herbs to Consider for Coronavirus
Also check out her Herbal Recipes for Preventing and Addressing Upper Respiratory Infections (free if you are on her email list)

7Song is a botanist, herbalist, and runs a free clinic in New York. Here are his notes on the COVID-19 Virus. (scroll down to “specific health issues)

Stephen Buhner is a well respected herbalist and author of books such as Herbal Antivirals. This is his take on the coronavirus.

Another herbalist, Michael Cottingham of Voyage Botanica was contacted weeks ago from the cruise ship that was quarantined in Japan. Apparently he gave them this formula and they were able to make it for 3000 people on that ship. All of these herbs are easily available at any grocery store (unlike, say, Buhner’s recipes which may be more difficult to find and to create easily and quickly). Herbalist Bonnie Kuhlman shared Michael’s recipe with permission, and I have permission to post it here for your use as well. I find most herbalists (and fiber artists!) to be most generous with their recipes.

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BASIL LEAF  (Ocimum basilicum)                                        1 teaspoon
OREGANO LEAF (Origanum vulgare)                                  1 teaspoon
THYME LEAF    (Thymus vulgaris)                                       1/2 teaspoon
ROSEMARY LEAF  (Rosmarinus off..)                                  1/2 teaspoon
GINGER ROOT – Ground   (Zingiber off.)                             1/4 teaspoon
TURMERIC ROOT – Ground  (Curcuma longa)                    1/4 teaspoon
CINNAMON BARK – Ground (Cinnamomum zeylanicum)    1/4 teaspoon
This is the amount to make 1 qt.  You may also add a little sage. Use either fresh or dried ginger and stick cinnamon.

Method
Measure and place herbs in a teapot or other container.
Bring one quart of boiled or distilled water just to a boil.
Pour over herbs. Cover to steep. Keep warm while steeping.
This solution should steep for at least 1/2 hour. 1 hour is better.
Strain.
Keep clear solution available at room temperature for immediate consumption.

For make-ahead amounts, refrigerate covered after straining.
Rewarm gently for use as needed.

DOSAGE
The average adult when sick with a cold or respiratory infection could drink as much as 2 quarts a day. Usually, a quart a day for adults is probably enough.
One can drink a cup or two (adults) a day to stimulate the immune system when a cold is going around.
Children between 5 and 15, could use up to a quart a day if sick, but probably more like a 1/2 of a quart should be enough. Children under 5, maybe just a couple of teaspoons of the tea, several times a day.

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This tea is warming, it increases diaphoretic action (sweating) if you drink a lot of it. Increases diuretic action (more urination). Increases respiratory function so you get less congestion. This tea blend is relaxing, so you get deeper and more restful sleeps. It is very anti-inflammatory and reducing inflammation is always helpful when you have a cold or infection. The tea increases circulation which is extremely helpful in congestion and infectious states. This tea blend is extremely anti-viral and antibacterial.

BASIL – Basil has been used as a spice and medicine for centuries.. It has traditionally been used by herbalists to treat nausea, gas pains, dysentery. Research shows that it inhibits organisms that cause dysentery. It is anti-viral and antibacterial. Has been used to treat lung infections and to help clean up mucous membrane congestion. Basil is also considered to be an effective immune stimulating herb and has been used to assist the bodies immune system in fighting various types of viral and bacterial infections.

OREGANO –  There are many different types of Oregano, but medicinally they are mostly the same. Oregano leaf is heating, spicy, and moving. It increases circulation and if you use enough of it, it will make you sweat (diaphoretic). It will also increase urination, which is extremely helpful when fighting an infection. This movement helps the body get rid of the cellular waste from an infection. A key to getting better when you have an infection in the lungs or mucous membranes is to create movement. Oregano really does that. Because Oregano contains a constituent called Thymol it makes it one of the premier plant medicines for fighting serious bacterial and viral infections.

Many of the plants in this tea blend contain Thymol – Oregano, Thyme, Rosemary and sometimes Basil – here is a short wikipedia description on this powerful constituent:
“Thymol has been used in alcohol solutions and in dusting powders for the treatment of tinea or ringworm infections, and was used in the United States to treat hookworm infections. People of the Middle East continue to use za’atar, a delicacy made with large amounts of thyme, to reduce and eliminate internal parasites. It is also used as a preservative in halothane, an anaesthetic, and as an antiseptic in mouthwash. When used to reduce plaque and gingivitis, thymol has been found to be more effective when used in combination with chlorhexidine than when used purely by itself. Thymol is also the active antiseptic ingredient in some toothpastes, such as Johnson & Johnson’s Euthymol. Thymol has been used to successfully control varroa mites and prevent fermentation and the growth of mold in bee colonies, methods developed by beekeeper R. O. B. Manley.[Thymol is also used as a rapidly degrading, non-persisting pesticide.Thymol can also be used as a medical disinfectant and general purpose disinfectant.” 

If I were to give a ranking to Oregano in my personal materia medica of the plants I use and consider vitally important – I would rank Oregano in the top 10. It’s antibacterial and anti-viral potential could be life saving.

THYME – Thyme contains a lot of Thymol making it a very powerful antibacterial and anti-viral plant medicine. Both major components of the volatile oil – thymol and carvacrol have been highly researched and are shown to be antibacterial and anti fungal. Thyme in large amounts has been used to expel worms, especially hookworms and ascarids. As a gargle or mouthwash Thyme is an excellent remedy for sore throats and infected gums. A hot tea of just Thyme is sweat-inducing making it effective against the common cold. Its volatile oils are excreted through the lungs making it excellent to use in bronchitis, whooping cough and pneumonia. Thyme is an excellent expectorant causing the coughing up of thick infectious mucus. An ointment made from Thyme has been used to treat shingles (Herpes zoster). * Large amounts of Thyme should be avoided during pregnancy.  While a common kitchen spice and a small pinch is used to flavor foods … larger amounts become a very serious medicine.

ROSEMARY – Another plant medicine that can contain small amounts of thymol, but also contains thujone, camphors, and other strong constituents. Rosemary is an excellent remedy for headaches and is considered to be an herbal nervine. It is a relaxing and vasodialating plant medicine. Good for lowering stress and calming down. It is antibacterial and antifungal. Topically the oil has been used to treat ringworm. The herb reduces flatulence and is stimulating to the digestion, liver and gall bladder increasing the flow of bile. It has been used to treat painful periods. Rosemary also improves the circulation and helps to strengthen fragile blood vessels due to its flavonoid diosmin.  I consider Rosemary another one of my top 10 most used plant medicines. Having used it with thousands of people in hundreds of different ways. There is 2000+ years of historical uses for this great medicine plant. Much has been written about Rosemary!

GINGER –  Ginger has been used as a plant medicine for many thousands of years by many different cultures. The roots of Ginger have long been prescribed for colds, coughs, flu, and promoting better digestion. It is one of the finest herbs for improving circulation. It is anti-viral and is an excellent respiratory plant medicine helping to expectorate stuck infectious mucus from the lungs. In this tea blend formula Ginger Root helps to move all the other herbs through the body more effectively. It helps to move waste from an infection by stimulating sweating and urination.

TURMERIC – This is probably one of the most researched of plant medicines with over 800 scientific papers to date. It is a premier anti-inflammatory. An action you want in most formulas. When you can reduce inflammation during an infectious condition your chances of recovery are greatly enhanced. Some research shows that Turmeric Root inhibits bacteria and fungal growth in the body. It has been used to help better digestion, especially with poor digestion of fats. This can make the blood less thick, which means less polluted blood, especially during infectious conditions. It is known to stimulate better lymphatic drainage which also aids the immune system. One could literally spend days and days reading about the amazing medicinal history of Turmeric.

CINNAMON –  Cinnamon has been used to warm the body, treat cold conditions and colds, to warm digestion and to ease flatulence.. Used to ease menstrual cramps and is antispasmodic to hectic lung coughing fits, easing the bronchi spasms. Cinnamon is extremely antibacterial inhibiting E.coli, Staphyloccus aureus, and thrush (Candida albicans). Used for thousands of years as a medicine plant, with a rich history of written uses and applications.

Keep in mind, that there are hundreds of books and thousands of internet pages that describe in great detail the plant medicine/spices in this tea blend. All of them have a rich history of use and all have been used for thousands of years. Even though most people know them just as spices to be used in cooking various dishes, in reality they are some of the most researched and important herbal medicines in the world.

This is a tasty tea that actually works to fight viral and bacterial infections, improve overall circulation, which helps to keep the lungs free of congestion and stimulates the immune system in time of need. This makes it useful in everything from the common cold, to a viral pandemic where there is no help to be found. If there ever was a time when higher medical care was not available or higher medical care was not able to help do to an overwhelming break down of the medical system, than this tea might just be enough to help you make it through such a terrible time.

Many of the spices or plant medicines in this tea blend have already been used in both bacterial plagues and viral pandemics. History is filled with their successful stories.  It is ironic that so many people lay in bed suffering from a cold or a more severe viral infection, meanwhile in their kitchen, in those tiny spice jars are the historic answers to their suffering. A pinch of knowledge might just save your life!

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Blessings,

Vision

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Proverbs 29:18   Where there is no vision, the people perish…

When embarking upon a new endeavor, it is customary to have in mind some expected end, some objective with which to outline the road by which we shall arrive there. For example, if we desire to gain certification for a career, we shall have our route planned and thus begin pursuit upon it. Entertaining the notion of homemaking, however, may woo us with expected ends (realistic or not), but we may shortly be either troubled or agitated with the lack of plain paths to fulfill becoming the domestic artist we envision.

And from where do our homemaking visions arise, anyhow? I do wonder how many of us, if asked, would raise our hands in agreement that Qualified (by whom, I’m uncertain) Homemaking looks a bit like Little House on the Prairie, whether a home runs with very little provision as in the case of the Ingalls, or with plenty of resources, as with the Olsons. Either way, the idea of running our very own home today is enough to make us either shiver with excitement over the possibilities or shudder with revulsion to be thus “trapped.”

Every person has a vision of what a proper home ought to be. If that vision seems realistic or achievable, then perhaps a homemaker will work with enthusiasm. But if it seems daunting and we do not take courage into entering the harder aspects (and there will be harder aspects), not even bread will want to rise to meet our sour demeanor. So we must find something in our homemaking with which to be enthusiastic about, even if it seems small, simple, or stupid. Otherwise, all we are doing is setting the stage for inevitable drudgery and wasting away of every potential of something good and lovely. Better to find something to smile about in our homemaking efforts, even while struggling to make the orchestra of laundry-meals-children-crafting play harmoniously, than to taint the atmosphere with acidic disappointments because your efforts are not “measuring up” to some misguided notion of How It Must Be.

There is a difference, also, between a homemaker planning a spotless home worthy of growing 100 thousand Instagram followers, and a homemaker planning rooms based on how she desires the inhabitants to feel when in them. One abode may look untouched, and therefore sterile; the other is affected with spoilage, but cheerful, and profitable for fruitfulness. Out of the muck, the garden grows, as every real farmer knows. Proverbs 14:4   Where no oxen are, the crib is clean: but much increase is by the strength of the ox.

A happy homemaker will expect to fail (yes, expect), and understand her failings may actually become supports to undergird her larger efforts. For she will build upon those errors, and learn from her mistakes. She will remove the nails and use screws next time, buy a better knife, unknit the sweater, and learn to sort laundry better. She will graduate from using meals-in-a-box, and educate herself on areas such as handwork, finance, and the healing arts.

A homemaker who dreads her homekeeping is like a mother with no love for her baby. She is not only wasteful, but wastes away in temperament. She does no good for her husband, and he does not trust her. The law of kindness is far from her tongue as she is destroying her own house, and it is highly unlikely her children will rise to call her blessed. Perhaps you have been in such homes: empty, uncared for, misused, tainted with bitterness. Perhaps you even grew up in one. The homemaker has no vision of glory within it.

Where there is no vision–that is, no Biblical revelation from God within its borders to lead and to guide–the people within a home perish even as the physical building succumbs to rot. The vision of happy homemaking is not a perfectly ordered linen closet with dried lavender sprigs, though such is certainly attainable and lovely besides. A happy homemaker has her soul sights upon God, and it is happiness He bestows as she keeps the law of Christ within the holy hedge of her home.

….but he that keepeth the law, happy is he. (Pro 29:18)

As love is the fulfilling of the law (Rom 13:10, Matt 22:36-40), our happiness in our homemaking is directly tied to loving God and in loving our neighbor, not in how well our imaginations in decor come to fruition. Our neighbors are not only the people across the fence lines with whom to share tea and conversation (something you can do when you are actually at home), but they are especially the people with whom God has set our lonely selves, both to be a measure of sanctification for them and also to receive their sandpaper rubbings to remove the dross from our own natures. In this we rejoice at home, that God is love, and we reflect His love within it.

There is no plainer or profitable path for a proper home than the one that leads to and through Calvary. Simple, yes, but our pathetic and weak worldly visions of what homemaking could be are at times chains binding us to the Daily Grind of joylessness in homemaking and make what could be grander visions of possibilities so gimp.

Do you want to be a blessed homemaker? Then behold the cross first and often, and let Jesus guide you in your endeavors to create a happy home. He will give you the vision you need; He will give you eyes to see.

Blessings,

Uncertainty

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my current knit project

Although I waddled into the new kindergarten teaching year at nine months along, I was confident that after my maternity leave, I would easily return to my satisfying career with its salary and benefits. And at that time, “salary and benefits” meant that my husband and I and baby would actually be assured of potatoes in the larder and a doctor on hand. Plus, it was the responsible thing to do, what with my university degrees and whatnot claiming my rightful place in society and in the economic engine. Did I already say I was confident?

I hardly need to provoke my older readers more; they are already smirking, knowing that handing off a fresh newborn baby is akin to peeling away the outer layer of a mother’s soul. Surely, my mind over time would convince (or is it deceive?) my conscience that all was well, especially as the baby would be home with her father, but my body would come to betray my seemingly logical fantasies with milk soaking my clothing at inopportune times.

I knew the moment I held my baby that I could not—should not—be parted with her to return to a mere job outside of the home. I knew this in the way most truth is known: it is reflected in creation, mamas caring for their babies, and in the conscience as well. Home was not only where my baby securely belonged, it was where I belonged as well, to protect, cherish, and raise her. We belonged together. However, as I counted down my maternity-leave days to that dreadful day of return (for it HAD become dreadful, once she was in my arms), my sense of duty to a contract—rather than to my child—sadly triumphed.

Five and a half months later, I sent in my letter of resignation. This, after telling my husband, “I don’t care if we have to go live in a shack…I am going to be with my baby.” His conscience also had been troubled, and he expressed relief. But we had no idea where those potatoes in the larder were going to come from. And I foolishly expected some sort of reply from the district, some word of thanksgiving or perhaps well wishes. Silence said everything I needed to know.

Certainty: Full assurance of mind; exemption from doubt (Webster’s 1828 American Dictionary of the English Language)

One of the perils of being a stay-at-home mother (which was probably a phrase that would be incomprehensible to mothers in history past) is that although we may have certainty of raising our own children and keeping our home, this does not translate to having assertive faith and unquestionable assurance that we are doing either thing well. Very few of us modern women have had the benefit of sitting at our mother’s knees for longer than a handful of years, if that, and even fewer have had the blessing of snuggling into our grandmother’s aprons on a regular basis. Instead, we have been trained and raised to run our lives with our heads and not our hands, and certainly not our hearts. Thus, coming home to raise our babies could not be more filled with doubt, insecurity, faltering and failing. Coming home to make a home is fraught with unpredictabilities and—hello—little hands and feet making continual messes of everything we have so carefully implemented.

Even knowing God’s will in the matter, ala Titus 2, does not exempt us from difficulties that arise while loving our husband, our children, and keeping the home. In fact, it’s quite sure that God will use all of those difficulties to grow us into more of the likeness of Christ, through our sanctification. He will reveal the truth about the character of our hearts as we hear the very words that fly out of our own mouths. He will expose the idols we worship as our anger rises or bitterness devours our minds. He will show us our laziness, ungratefulness, covetousness, and unkindness. Don’t claim to love Jesus if you don’t want to look more like Him, and it takes more humility than we will ever be able to display (irony, there) to do so. It takes a trusting heart to come home, to stay home, even in uncertainty.

In today’s particular world, mothers have not only the freedom to abandon homemaking, but the encouragement to do so. However, the heart does not forget even if the milk dries up, and this is self-evident. It is also unmistakable in the well being of children, as every kindergarten (and high school) teacher would attest if allowed to be sincerely honest.

Full assurance of mind, when deciding to stay home, does not arrive with perfect children or a magazine-worthy house either. As we all know, children do not need to be taught to lie, steal, hit, or manipulate, so the certainty of our calling to be home cannot be measured by their behaviors. We also know those magazines show images of rooms filled with things that do not always even belong to the owners of those rooms! In fact, I recall an acquaintance whose truly gorgeous home was in one of said magazines, and I was astonished when she told me what was removed and with what it was replaced! Advertisers must make their dues, I suppose. Our confidence cannot be in creating a house of our imaginations.

Are you a stay at home mother? Do you wish to be? Then you must embrace uncertainty. You must not stay your hope on how the day goes, how the schedule runs, how the floor stays clean or if your husband brings home more than bacon. You must not boast of tomorrow, nor of even today, for you do not know what a day may bring forth (Proverbs 27:1). The only thing we may boast of, that we may have certainty in, is in God (Psalm 44:8). It is He who calls us to be home (Titus 2:5), and He will be faithful to equip and empower us to do His work in it.

God also says “let not your heart be troubled” (John 14:1), because He is with us (Ps 23:4, Ps 42:8). And as I sit in my house not knowing how all of this child raising and homemaking is going to play itself out (don’t we wish we had guarantees!), God’s eternal presence is worth far more than any retirement plan. Of that, I am certain.

When the Joy is Gone, Part IV

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Galatians 5:22   But the fruit of the Spirit is…joy…

Most mornings when I wake up, I am excited. I’m excited about a fresh new day and the fact that I’m still alive here with my husband and my children. I’m excited about the events on my calendar, the creative work I have in front of me, and the opportunity to enjoy my babies at playtimes and worktimes and mealtimes. I can’t wait to read or hear God’s Word and to see what He has for me that morning, and to make that hot tea for the clay mug that will snug between my hands. I look forward to another day of dreaming and planning and hoping, and all of this excitement spurs my practices in the morning to get ready for it all.

Yet I also carry about a wee bit of trepidation. I cannot possibly know everything the day will hold, and part of my morning involves reading and listening to the world’s news and events. Many mornings I also fold heartbreak into my excitement, and with that, fervent prayer and more practice of my memory verses so that I might meditate on them when I am gripped by fear or anxiety. I remind myself that with all of the glory of life and beauty there is intermixed within it, on this side of the veil, the garbage of sin and death.

There is a real difference between understanding and living within the dichotomy of living within the glory and garbage, and being in a season where in every morning wake-up, joylessness robs you of perspective and hope.

If despair is your constant companion, please go back and read this series. And ponder what you read. And put into practice anything you know you need to do, one step at a time. Each of those steps are life-changing! If gumming up the interest or effort to do anything at all is elusive, then let me plead with you to speak with a Biblical counselor, today. Sometimes you just need someone else who loves the Lord and trusts the eternal and effectual Truth of God’s Word to help you manage the walk through life.

When the Joy is Gone part 1
When the Joy is Gone part 2
When the Joy is Gone part 3

Hebrews 11:1   Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

This is one verse that shows itself most plainly when tragedy strikes, when depression sets in, when life generally simply does not go the way we are indoctrinated to believe it “ought” to go. What comes out of you when you are pressed in any difficulty truly reveals what is within you, whether hope and faith in the sovereignty and sufficiency of God, or idolatry and in following what was right in your own eyes and heart. For there is a big difference between understandable and reasonable sadness and grief due to the circumstances of living in a sin-stained world, and a sorrow that grows into sinful actions and behaviors that ultimately adds even more layers of sorrow upon sorrow.

What you need, what I need, at the end of the day (at the beginning of the day!), is endurance and faith, the desire and heartfelt and Holy Spirit stubbornness, if you will, to trust in the sovereignty of God in all things, and to look to Him for sufficiency in all things, especially in the difficulties we face. We need to discern and expose the wolves within the flock of the church, the ones who lead us astray from that trust with their ear-tingling teachings that we are meant to be healthy and prosperous (by the world’s standards), and that we are never meant to suffer sadness, disappointment, difficulty, grief, illness, pain, poverty or persecution. We need to study David and Elijah and Moses and Peter and Paul and John, and ask ourselves, “What drove their lives more than anything else?” We need to study the Scriptures, not simply peruse them for fleeting minutes at a time. John Piper, via Instagram, recently posted “Satan devotes 168 hours a week trying to deceive you. Do you think you can maintain a renewed mind with a ten-minute glance at God’s book once a day?” We need to abandon those sins we hold dear, choose gratitude, and actively do those activities we already know we should be doing (like getting enough sleep and nourishing our bodies).

Do you feel like the joy is gone? Understand that God hasn’t left you; HE isn’t gone. Although He never promises deliverance from our problems this side of heaven, He does walk through the fire with you. Will you trust Him? Will you want His glory more than your own happiness, peace, comfort, and pleasure?  Habakkuk 3:18   Yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will joy in the God of my salvation.

I recently heard the speech that Elizabeth Elliot gave at the 1983 Christmas Conference in Kansas City. It is well worth your time to hear it. In it you can not only hear her steadfastness of faith, but her very loving exhortation for us to do the same.

 

 

May we all reflect the joy in our hearts, given to us by Christ, all the days of our life, and thereby never have cause to say “the joy is gone.”

Psalms 35:9   And my soul shall be joyful in the LORD…

Blessings,

When the Joy is Gone, Part III

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You can find part one HERE and part two HERE.

When the joy is gone, life isn’t very bright. I know what it’s like to walk around in the midst of cloudy disappointment or struggle, much like Pig Pen in the Charlie Brown series. Everything is discolored by it, from the blessing of sweet giggles of an adoring toddler to the real injury from a critical and condescending person.

Part one of this series deals with recognizing our own need to come before a holy and righteous God, and to realize and submit our need for His work in our own hearts. We absolutely cannot move beyond our consciences and the obvious need and longing to be whole and finally free from our past and present (and future) sins, even the ones we hate that we do. To ignore this calling is to welcome the cloud and to make our home in the dark, and it is hypocritical, at best, to desire light while denying its source.

Part two suggests that we become a student of our own behaviors and thoughts and to admit them honestly and humbly. To say we want peace, for example, and then find ourselves at a constant nitpick at everyone around us, is an obvious disconnect from walking in integrity. Your spirit will not rest if if you know what you ought to do, and yet continue to reject doing it. Unfortunately, we are also naturally bent towards self-deception. It’s the attitude and belief that *we* are fine, and we would be better, if only *they* (people, politics, religion, systems, whatever…) would get in line to our own thinking and how things ought to be. Getting real objective information about our own part in creating joylessness is a powerful wakeup, and this process can take a long, long time. We need to be gentle, but firm, with ourselves.

Once these areas (from part one and part two) are clearly defined, it is time to get to work. Yes, work. Because no one is going to wave a magic wand and make the world look or behave how you feel you would be your best person in. And the only way to avoid that work at this point is to utterly deny the cloud you’re in, like a mantra (“I am not in a cloud. I do not see a cloud. I am full of joy. Full, I say, full!”), but again, your spirit is not as readily deceived as you may think your mind to be. It is time to specifically apply those actions you need to do in order to live that joy-filled life, regardless of outward circumstances or your particular hormonal mood.

But how do you know what those actions are?

Although the Bible is not a textbook for behavioral modification, and in fact entirely misses the point if that is the only approach, it is a Book full of wisdom and correction and instruction in righteousness (2 Tim 3:16).

I remember the day I realized I did not have a light and joyful countenance while going about my daily tasks of homemaking, child raising, and homeschooling. Sure, I got most of everything touched upon if not completed, but my attitude was one of a sober business manager, not one of a loving, joyful mother. What objective feedback made this clear for me? The mirror.

I was walking past the bathroom and caught a look in the mirror and immediately noticed my face. It looked…serious. The question that came up in my spirit was, “Are you angry?” And I considered this and honestly said “no”, as I had no reason to be and nothing whatsoever was even provoking me in any way. I was simply on the way to move laundry around, and it was a bright beautiful day. I then began to think how this is the face my children encounter every day: a very serious, task-minded, business-like woman, aiming to Get Things Done. This was in conflict with the joyful, light and warm person I wanted to be, not only to them, but to the world (even as I Got Things Done). So I made a pact with myself to smile every time I came upon a child.

It took such diligence and obedience! And it felt so fake; my face was not being true to my habit. But slowly, over time, I realized I did not have to tell myself anymore, “Smile, Keri”, and even now many years later I feel a relaxed and easy warm smile come when I see or hold any of my babies, no matter how old they happen to be. I can also tell you that many years later, I began to laugh easily, and that laughter has brought even more joy to my spirit and—I assume—to my family as well.

Here are some more examples of how you might apply Biblical teaching to real-life homework for yourself:

Proverbs 31:26   She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. Is the law of kindness upon your tongue when you open your mouth to speak to your husband or to your children? If not, that is the specific application for you today and tomorrow and for however long it takes: to practice speaking kindly both in word and in tone. Expect it to feel “fake” in the beginning; remember your poor speaking is a longstanding, ingrained and even “natural” habit at this point. But that still does not negate the truth of Scripture, and the truth of how a Christian ought to speak, and the power of God’s enabling grace in order to do it.

Romans 12:2   And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God. Are you reading and studying your Bible, in order to know what is right and true and good? Are you reading materials or watching programs or listening to lyrics or podcasts that attempt to negate or repress Truth as revealed in Scripture? How can you honestly prove what is good if you do not renew and change your thinking as necessary in order to align it with what is right? Are you more concerned about fitting in, hiding your light under a bushel, denying your faith, fearing abandonment, or having the accolades of other people than in glorifying God—your Maker—with the use of your gifts or your life? If so, that is the specific application you need: to read and study your Bible first thing every morning, undistracted by a smartphone or other reading material.

Do you see what I mean by (1) recognizing and becoming aware of a problem (from part 2 of this series) and (2) specifically giving to yourself application homework?

Examples of homework might include:

Becoming a student: signing up or showing up for an in-person Bible study for accountability
Embarking on other education: ordering and listening to a series of solid teaching on an issue you are struggling with, whether anger or depression or…
Memorizing Scripture: downloading an app to help you daily memorize and meditate on the Word of God
Making lists: make a list of 15 ways the law of kindness can be on your tongue, make a list of 20 ways you can show respect to your husband, make a list of 40 ways you can honor God today, etc.
Moving forward: deleting apps from your smartphone that cause you to stumble, removing all of the alcohol from your house, clearing your closet of clothing that says you’re sloppy, signing up for FlyLady or other home keeping applications, etc.
Serving: committing to faithfully serving your local church in some way, or—backing up here—committing to join and faithfully attend a local church service. It is simply impossible to love Jesus and yet deny or neglect the Bride He is so joyfully set before Him as He endured the cross.

Here are just a couple of resources (in addition to Bible study) that you may find helpful in your walk towards overcoming joylessness, and in finding real help in this fallen world:

for reading and homework ideas: Homework Manual for Biblical Living

for finding a personal counselor: Association of Biblical Certified Counselors

One more part in the series to come.
Blessings,

When the Joy is Gone, Part II

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You may find part one HERE.

After completing a sober self-examination to see if you are in the faith, and of repenting of any sinful grumbling or other activity in which the Holy Spirit convicts, it may be that your joy still feels elusive. It’s important to define at this point the word “joy”.

Webster’s 1828 Dictionary of the English Language defines joy as “The passion or emotion excited by the acquisition or expectation of good; that excitement of pleasurable feelings which is caused by success, good fortune, the gratification of desire or some good possessed, or by a rational prospect of possessing what we love or desire; gladness; exultation; exhilaration of spirits. JOY is a delight of the mind.”

Lest we conclude that this means, practically, that joy in essence is receiving every material good that we could possibly want, let us recall that what we naturally want is by our very nature marred by sin. If we desire above all God’s will and His purposes, regardless of our state in life, our joy will be full. After all, it was Jesus who for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross (Hebrews 12:2), a horrific and barbaric means of torture and execution that did not even compare to the wrath of God Jesus endured. And yet there was joy upon that endurance.

Perhaps a good start is to consider answering the question for yourself (and myself!): I will be full of joy when… (fill in the blank), or I will be full of joy if… (fill in the blank). What is your expectation for, and hope in, and are those things transcendent enough to offer peace in your soul? In other words, is idolatry ruling anywhere in your heart? Rejoice if it be found, my friend, for it is quenched by repentance, and what kindness God gives when He reveals those things to us.

There are other means by which to activate an awareness to where we are not walking in the Spirit, and thus lacking in joy. Bible study is of course foundational, because God uses His Word to teach and to lead us in righteousness. But many of us, although we know—or claim to know—the Scriptures, still find ourselves feeling lowly. We think we ARE rejoicing always, we think we ARE NOT exasperating our children. Doctrine may or may not really be playing out in our lives as we think them to be. After all, even the way of a fool is right in his own eyes (Proverbs 12:15). Even so, daily Bible reading and sober study is primary to thinking right thoughts about matters.

Another means to becoming more aware of quenching the Spirit is to ask other people about our personal habits. There are two considerations here. One, are you humble enough to ask? Are you able to look your child in the eye and ask, “Do you think Mommy spends too much time on her phone?” Or to your husband, “Do you feel that I really respect you?” Or to your friend, “Am I a good listener; do I really hear you?”

The second consideration is the honesty in which you can expect to receive in making such inquiries. Do these people feel free to answer truthfully? Or do they know you will pout or argue or defend yourself or get angry or sent into a black hole of pity? In other words, is your relationship such that you can expect a tender response?

If not, you may still have some opportunity to examine your habits on your own. An example would be to download an app that is unbiased. The FlyLady housekeeping app would help you to see how well (or not) you are doing in keeping the house (and help you to do better). The Moment app would help you to see how many hours (yes, yes hours) you truly are spending on Facebook or other social media every day.

In other words, don’t just give yourself a pass at how well you are working out your faith in practice. Put everything to the test, by submitting to the observations of others or of objective apps. Study Titus 2:3-5 and pick apart each area, examining yourself but NOT simply assuming wisdom on your own (Proverbs 26:12). In this way, you may avoid self-deception and truly own up to those areas in your life that need the light of wisdom in, so that you may grow in joyfulness out of a pure heart.

More to come.

Blessings,

And, Here We Are

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The driveway up to our new (to us) rental is steep, narrow, and embraced by maples and firs and ferns. I once got stuck upon this very driveway, heading up to meet with friends and braking to meet the vehicle heading down, and therefore have tried to avoid this little road thereafter. Today, I sense the knowing smirks of critters watching me as now it is my only passageway to my home and out from it. So I lay on the horn as I head up, warning, Watch out! I am barreling up! And I do, with purpose.

The home is sprawling and old, with all the charms that sprawling and old present. We’ve spent most of last six weeks not only packing and moving our goods, but in freshening up the home with paint. And I mean paint. Lots and lots and lots of paint (did I mention this house is sprawling?). The painting still continues, but I am seeing progress, and nothing brightens up a home like a coat (or two) of fresh paint. This house has 19 rooms at my count, and perhaps I have met it halfway with the brush.

Old houses have their quirks as well. With multiple previous owners making their mark, each with their own ideas of decor and home improvements, it becomes a bit of a puzzle to fit your own personality and presence into (making it all the more fun for future residents). I have no idea, for example, why the fridge area sits upon a box, as the previous resident is not short. But there it is, and so baby has an interesting platform to play upon and I try to avoid having to open the freezer.

And the gifts left behind! Old engines, farming equipment, furniture…all I am sure with the generosity of thinking it will be a blessing to whomever comes next. And sometimes it is (my son was pretty happy finding this knife!). But I know from experience (I’ve done it, too) that leaving those things behind are more to avoid disposal than to be a help to someone else. It can become a treasure hunt, however, and it IS fun to find things that are beautiful and useful. Such as, well, this throwing knife. That’s fun and useful, yes?

What’s more fun for me is foraging and exploring the new surroundings! Not only is this place ripe with fruit (plums, salmon berries, figs–FIGS, and more), but so many herbs! Nettle, blackberry, raspberry, horsetail, dock, comfrey, and more. When you move from an HOA neighborhood full of grassy lawns and trimmed hedges to the wild woods with half a cultivated garden, not only do you get oh-this-is-a-new-environment-allergies but you get food and medicine without your neighbor’s chemical lawn treatments. “I promise to come,” I tell those wild woods and garden, “just as soon as my paint brushes are clean.” Hopefully, this autumn.

Meanwhile, we are in the midst of buying our own slice of land, so my mind has been wandering to my own little wilderness and how I might cultivate and leave my own personal quirks. I’ve been carting this oregano around, for example, for years. I’m ready to give it an earthy home and let it spread its roots. And maybe I’m ready to give our children a home like that, too. But even so, I recognize I have almost five decades behind me, and whatever I create will indeed be left behind for someone else to come along and freshen and find gifts for their own. So I hold it loosely, this “home of my own” idea, knowing that my true home is being prepared for me even now, and it is a sure and eternal one.

Regardless of where I live, I continue to enjoy creative endeavors, of which homemaking is the best. So anything I can learn to add to my home or to bless my family with in any way is an especially worthy undertaking. I’ve learned so much, and am learning still so much, about herbal and homeopathic medicines, botany, cooking, mixed media art forms and the textile arts. I’m enjoying my studies on Biblical counseling, and the ongoing education I receive while educating my own children. And on it goes. Being a keeper at home offers so many blessings and freedoms to embark on so many things; it is a great privilege to shake the rugs out or bake a loaf of bread or gently cover a sleeping toddler. In the end, it doesn’t matter where you live. A house is just a house. But a home…is a slice of heaven on earth. I’m glad to be getting a little more settled again into one.

Onward,

Embrace It

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A man’s heart deviseth his way: but the LORD directeth his steps Proverbs 16:9

Boxes pile up throughout the house and everyday living becomes more and more of a maze of hazardous cardboard corners. There are boxes piled, boxes in progress, and boxes turned into tents and hats and automobiles by the children, most of whom are besides themselves excited by the adventure, and others simply observing, bewildered by narrowing passways.

Our family chalkboard is a mess of dates, to-do’s, and doodles. We are already, and quite customarily, behind. Despite all of the downsizing we have done through two moves already in the past five years (has it been that long already?), I still find myself, in the kitchen for example, unable to pare down to simply a pot and a spoon and instead clutch to my dozens of spices and at least that many cookbooks for the last few weeks of organizing, packing, cleaning, moving, cleaning again, hefting items to charity (and I do mean hefting), painting and cleaning (yes, again) the rental home we are moving to, and trying to valiantly save and plant the garden seedlings I’ve been tending on my windowsills. Because you know that after slogging away at that staggering list of responsibilities, I’m going to want to whip up some fancy French five course meal with at least several seasonings on some random evening.

Meanwhile, the family annual weekend vacation must go on. Yes, yes, it must (I tell myself). So must birthdays, a graduation, grandparent visits, a trip to the Regionals NCFCA competition, and Ruby’s all-day trip to the neurodevelopmentalist.

So why did I even LOOK at the current real estate listings? This, I tell you, is an enigma. But there it was: a five acre piece of property in a location that ticked off enough boxes (boxes, again) to make it worth a look in the twenty minutes we had between packing and sleeping. We made an offer on the spot. And now we are pending sale as we tick off even more boxes (boxes! boxes I say!) and, Lord willing, before summer greets us we shall be settled into our next rental AND have a lovely place to go picnic and dream about possibilities amongst the trilliums.

It may be a coincidence I had been reading Trusting God before all of this whirlwind began, but I suppose that would display a gross misunderstanding of not only Mr. Bridges’s teaching, but of God’s sovereignty in all things, blessing and tribulation alike. There is simply no room for panic when your assurance and your footing are on the foundation of Christ, and I am very much aware that when my flesh flees (oh, so often…) from the Holy Spirit’s teaching, guiding, comfort, and incessant reflection of Jesus, it is akin to a child scampering off deliciously close to the Grand Canyon’s edge. Now, He may keep my foot from falling, but He may even not, even as He keeps me in His hands.

So I am packing. Downsizing again. In His grace, He has asked me to do it three times and I am certain that if my flesh remains stubborn, He will do so again and again. He is good that way, and truly, in the process of sanctifying us to be more like Jesus, every “give and take away” is a holy blessing. Embrace it.

Blessings,

Preparing for a Fast

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Shew me thy ways, O Lord…
Ps 25:4a

Despite the fact I’ve spent decades studying herbalism and homeopathy, what tends to throw me is self-diagnosis. Oh, I knew this intellectually, I’d be told this would be the case and that I’d need others to come alongside and help me, but the heart is a stubborn thing, and easily prodded into self-reliance, resistance, and denial. It is the humble and quiet heart that seeks the proper diagnosis and protocol, and as such wisdom is necessary in where that help is sought. For who has not suffered from overly critical or careless advice from the wrong source?

Sobering still is the assumption that all is well if all systems are quiet, and there is no need to check for any submarine surprises. A wise woman (and man) will take time to check in, to shine a light under the hood, to have someone else hold up the mirror and manual and ask, “Is all well?” There’s no sense in waiting for the rattle, or ignoring its vibration, but we all, really, are bent in ignoring any lights that may pop up on our dashboard in plain view, so we’re not real keen to go looking for what is not lit up.

Who can understand his errors? (Ps19:12a)

Who, indeed? Even as today I assume and assure myself that I am in the right of however I feel or whatsoever I do, I recall too many instances of regret or false steps of yesterday. Presumably, I was absolutely correct at that time, too, But wisdom is justified of her children, (Matt 11:19) and there’s no denying (though I might try) that some of those apples were rotten.

It is the wise woman who takes time to pause and consider and check on how she really is, whether her body with help from an intelligent healer or her finances from a wealthy and honorable advisor. It is also the wise woman who will quiet her heart and take it to the Great Physician for a proper view of her soul, which will outlive both her physical body and her worldly finances.

A friend of mine laid out her plan to do so, and it was thus: to decide ahead of time times of seeking and fasting, and to mark them upon the calendar. Thus she was decided, and knew those times would be coming, so already her heart was softened and prepared, like good soil.

…cleanse thou me from secret faults. Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins; let them not have dominion over me… (Ps 19:12-13a)

There are many reasons for considering a fast:

to shine light on sins suppressed, excused, or denied
without holiness, no one will see the Lord
to make ready for the bridegroom
humility, thankfulness, trust, joy
to put to death presumptuous sins (those you allow because you assume God’s favor)
to learn to forgive, rejoice, pray, and witness
to enter into suffering as a means of surrender and greater dependence upon the Lord
to grow in trust for every want and need, resting in His timing and sovereignty

What might preparing for fasts ahead of time look like?

Choose your plan. For example, you might choose a number of 40 day fasts in the year; my friend chose five. These can be around specific times such as Lent, in which you’d be in community with many saints doing the same, and/or around other times more personal to you, such as a birthday. But decide ahead of time, and mark them all down in your calendar, as unbreakable appointments. Whether it’s once a week or once a season, deciding and planning ahead gives your desires considerably more weight.

You don’t need to know ahead of time what your fast for each one will be. Rather, pray about what would be appropriate as you approach the time of fasting.

Here are some examples of fasting ideas:

foods: sugar, alcohol, caffeine, candy, chocolate, coffee, toast…(“I can’t do without my daily…”)
sleep: give up late nights and go to bed early, fast from late night reading, or TV
intake: outside news, social media, reading (other than the Bible)
people: fast from those who stoke anger or offense, enablers, critical people, talk shows
other: scrolling, shopping, makeup, sedentary sitting, driving, excess exercise, etc.

The point is to give something up for a period of time to reveal what you may have been using as a crutch, a broken cistern, or an idol. Even if that thing is “good”, perhaps it’s taken the place of God, and thankfulness for that good thing has been crowded out by expectation or entitlement. What would it be like to fast from electricity!

These questions might help reveal a profitable fast. What action or emotion do these evoke? Do you like your answers? Are those answers forwarding you towards holiness?

When I am disappointed, I…
When I am frustrated, I…
When I am angry, I…
When I am sad, I…
When I am hurt, I…
When I am bored, I…

When I need love, I….
When I need affirmation, I…
When I need community, I…
When I need care, I…
When I need protection, I…
When I need assurance, I…

I can’t seem to get over…
I am mad that I can’t seem to stop…
I wish I were more…
I … so that people will think I am …
I already know I need to …
On the other side of a fast, I believe I would …

Perhaps the Lord is revealing to you what would be profitable to you for your first fast. More to ponder:

The three things I need to do or get into order ahead of time for me to succeed in this fast are:
A Bible verse or passage I will copy and keep in front of me to help me is:
If I need accountability, I will ask … to do so.
My best reasons for doing this fast are…

My first fast will begin … and end on … I will be fasting from …

It is worth considering our ways, because our lives, short as they are, are precious and have worth. We are made to reflect and glorify God. With the Holy Spirit’s enabling, we will be more formed into Christ’s likeness, and reflect His goodness. Our dependence upon God will bring His teaching, as He does not turn away the humble and contrite spirit. And, although fasting likely brings gifts of tangible benefits such as weight loss, self control, or clarity of mind, the focus is not on those gifts but on the Giver of those things and our peace comes from knowing He gives and takes away as it is best for us.

The expectation is not healing, per se, but “Nearer, my God, to Thee”, and to let Him have His perfect work, that we may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing, and ready to receive the crown of life for all eternity. James 1 is an excellent read as you consider these things.

I hope you’ll join my friend and I, and plan for your own fasts for the upcoming year. If you’d like an easy copy of the previous questions to print out for a quiet thinking and journaling time, click HERE.

May your year be blessed!

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Follow The Leader

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And other things I’ve learned in the last 4 1/2 years of following Ramsey, downsizing, and “living like no one else” PART THREE

 

Money doesn’t grow on trees, but money can grow money

 

One of the best ways to examine an idea is to follow it (and its leaders) all the way to the end. When it has an outcome we don’t like, we need to realize that outcome was a result of perhaps even one bad (or outdated) idea leading to an untold number of unintended consequences. When the initial idea presented itself, it didn’t really bring with it an entire picture of fruition–that’s why we look above the trees and down the road a bit before traveling it. That’s wisdom. And wisdom is not only elevated in Scripture, it’s presented as something precious and worth seeking. That’s also why in Christianity, elders are honored; they have seen and experienced more, and you can learn much from their lives–both the disasterous consequences of their poor choices, and the manifold blessings of their careful ones. But you need to do more than inquire into their theories and methods; you need to look up every now and then from the footprints you’re standing in to see if they are leading you where you want to go.

My own financial education revolved around working for pay (good), earning an allowance (good), learning how to use a bank account and checkbook (good, good), and how to keep an accounting log (good in theory). Other than that, my decisions of what I could afford were based not only on my bank statement, but on what the credit card company, auto loan company, or home loan people said I could afford. It was always a matter of money in, money out, repeat. I never received an education about the stock market (other than I ought to be investing in it for retirement), social security, taxes, leaving an inheritance, etc. And that “etc” is huge!

So most of my financial decisions were based on whatever everyone else was doing, recommending, and setting up for me, and I walked in those footsteps. After our big downsize “get out of the pool” year, we began questioning everything, including those financial footprints.

Like if we’re supposed to follow the advice that our grandparents would give us (ala Ramsey), then how come they all died without more than old cars and bowls to give away? That led to more questions.

Like how come we didn’t learn how to save on taxes more? (Hiring an accountant was–and is–worth its weight in gold). How come we still hear our parents’ and grandparents’ generation talk about being on “a fixed income”? What does that even mean? What if we don’t want to be on a “fixed” income? And how come the nursing home industry is burgeoning but legacies are not? Questions, questions.

We decided it was time to follow the Leader, and not the broad path. What did Scripture teach about money? The love of it, bad. The blessing of it, good. The burying of it, bad. Gaining interest on it, good. Generosity and leaving an inheritance, good. Stuffing our barns full and robbing our children, bad. And so on.

One thing we noticed about Dave Ramsey, for example (and truly we are not trying to disparage the man), is that he gains income not only from his own advice, but from advice we never heard from him. It doesn’t mean he never said it, but it wasn’t a key teaching we picked up on on all of the years we listened and studied. Like working to create cash flow, creating products once to receive royalties upon forever, and paying ourselves first, every month. Keeping only $1000 in the bank doesn’t allow many (any?) cash flow opportunities along the way that may increase your income; it only helps as a stop-gap (which I believe is the intent). Furthermore, a lot of attention is given to not only paying off all debts, but then in saving 3-6 months of emergency money, saving up for college, saving up for retirement, and so forth. Meanwhile, while you’re busy saving all of that money (for debt reduction and so forth), all of that money is going down in value while prices are going up. So it seems very, very difficult for the average person to get to that finish line Ramsey sets up as a win because that line keeps moving. It was discouraging to us, and we didn’t even begin with any credit card debt at all!

How else, other than saving and putting into the stock market, might someone like Mr. Ramsey (or any other wealthy person) be growing in wealth? How about real estate? Does he own rentals? How about royalties from his books and other products? How about from recurring advertising or sponsorships on his shows? Does he gain any dividends from his company or any other companies? And so forth.

When we spoke to our financial advisors (one of whom recommended by Mr. Ramsey) about our retirement, their advice was to keep on paying down student loan and house (mortgage) debt, and to keep on investing in the stock market. Mr. Ramsey’s advisor has since disappeared, but the other one we still talk to is still in business, doing very well. When I step back and see how HE (still-here-advisor) is gaining HIS wealth, part of it is on recurring percentages he earns from his recurring clients and their recurring accounts. In other words, he signs up a client (us), we stay on to grow our money, and he gets a percentage. Forever. He doesn’t NEED to pile up money so that he can retire and shave off that pile little by little as he ages and hope he doesn’t live longer than those (hopeful, not guaranteed) savings and earnings can sustain him. If he has enough clients, his clients can sustain him forever.

In other words, the people who seem to be doing well are either because they got a leg up from an inheritance and invested it well into income opportunities, and/or they have cash flow coming in on work they did yesterday. They also are not likely to go into debt on items or experiences that do not add to that cash flow. For example, they will not buy a $1000 wheelbarrow on credit just because the old one is broken. But they MIGHT put a $1000 wheelbarrow on credit if that wheelbarrow’s $20 monthly loan payment allows them via a landscaping business to rake in (see what I did there?) $250 a month, plus they can write off the wheelbarrow as a tax expense for their small business. That is an example of you using your money to grow money. Otherwise, that person has to spend I-don’t-know-how-many months (years?) saving up for that wheelbarrow (and hopefully the price hasn’t increased by purchase day), and that $1000 saved is gone. And now that person needs to wait more months just to make back the $1000 before he begins earning anything at all. If he had responsibly used credit, he’d already be making more than enough to pay the interest AND have more money available to seed for growth. Maybe now he’d buy more equipment, or hire a helper. You get the idea.

Now, we are not elders who have succeeded (yet). But we’ve popped our heads above the trees a bit, and have had a few “aha” moments. Here are three rules that are guiding our financial decisions right now:

Ask questions. Then ask some more. If you don’t understand something, ask. If everyone is supposed to put their money into a 401K, ask why. Ask what a 401K is. Ask why it is called 401 and not 201. Ask about benefits, risks, guarantees, taxes, penalties, availability to use your own funds, what happens to it if you die, what happens if you live to 120, where that “it will be there” money is coming from, etc. Ask ask ask. Don’t do anything you don’t understand, and for SURE do not do business with anyone who obviously does not want to educate you. Ramsey shines in this: he calls it looking for someone “with the heart of a teacher”. We’re thankful that even the advisors we may disagree with on some points still take the time to answer our questions and educate us about why they suggest what they do. That’s one reason why we still see them.

Pay yourself first. No matter what, we take money off the top for our church and for ourselves. The money for ourselves goes into envelopes that are for cash flow opportunities. In other words, that money helps pay for editors to work on my books so that those books can be published and will (we hope!) bless countless homes and in return provide us some royalties in return. We’ve been married for 26 years and we both wish we had been paying ourselves first all this time. But no–the bills yelled loudest–and we always waited to see if there was “anything left” at the end for charity and for investing. It NEVER worked out that way. Better to put $20 into your OWN pocket and let the outside bills yell than for you to get ever deeper into a rut, month after month. Someday, those $20 bills will add up to a nice downpayment on that wheelbarrow…and you’ll be off.

Stop thinking and saying poor things. I am NOT saying “name it and claim it”, but I AM saying that you don’t have to speak in a self-defeating manner. Don’t say, “I can’t afford it.” Say, “I’m not there yet but I am working on it” or “I don’t want to afford that right now” or “There must be some other way to make this happen (legally and morally)…what could that be?” or “Who could I get some advice from?” And instead of trying to shame people who are wealthy just because they are wealthy or now are the CEO of Wheelbarrow Inc., start taking them out to lunch (use your $20), ask them for mentoring and advice, and follow the leader.

Where to start, and where we are, in the next blog post.

Blessings,

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Letter From an Older Sister

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My daughter came home with a bag full of “music books” donated by a friend. This bag came from a friend of a friend, and who knows how many hands since. Tucked in between musty music books, a pile of papers splayed out when the bag was emptied upon the table, and my eyes instantly drew to the handwritten notes. Typewritten text doesn’t celebrate a personality in quite the same way, does it?

I learned that these notes were from a 90 year old woman who had recently passed away. As I read a few here and there, I realized what a treasure lay before me.

Life happens! Does it? Life is not fair! Compare our lives and their outcomes to that of Christ…

In between the hymn notes and the musical compositions lay words of affirmation and hope in Jesus Christ, and handwritten hymns such as…

Step by step, and with each passing moment
Strength I find to meet my trials here.
Trusting in my Father’s wise bestowment,
I’ve no cause for worry or for fear.

What a sweet delight! What a welcome reminder to answer our worries and our fears not with the shifting sands of how we feel or how we may think, but rather with who God is and what He says in His Word.

How many days in a year? How many promises in God’s word for us. How many of us have always made the right decisions? Some things are not worth anything unless they bless the hearers. I share my testimony with the desire that it will encourage you to know ‘you can make it’–no matter what you’re called to go through…

Many of us thirst for someone to assure us, “you can make it”, isn’t that so? Here rested pages of advice, and I wondered to whom she had written. I wondered if those hearers became repenters. I wondered if any would, today.

We grow up as children with very pleasant memories of home and parents–of childhood joys and securities. Fanny Crosby has written:

Tis whispered in the ear of God,
Tis murmured through our tears,
Tis linked with happy childhood days,
And blessed in riper years.

That hallowed word is ne’er forgot,
No matter where we roam,
The purest feelings of the heart,
Still cluster round our home.

Dear resting place, where weary thought
May dream away its care
Love’s gentle star unveils her light
And shines in beauty there.

 

She continues with her praise of God and of His lovingkindness in the family and in the home. Don’t we all long to hear more of the blessings of hearth and home?

Who could write more fitting words to express what home and loved ones mean…a girl who had so much adjusting to do–and so much to experience of security and love (in her sightless condition). We become adults, and plan homes of our own. We are blest, indeed, if we find a companion to cherish and to love. Our days are not just routine and drab; they are adventurous, with each day finding its rewards and its joys–as we plan our dreams together.

Yes! Not routine and drab, but adventurous!

One has written:

Home’s not merely four square walls
Though with pictures hung and gilded
Home is where affection calls,
Filled with shrines the heart hath builded!

Home! go watch the faithful dove,
Sailing ‘neath the heaven above us,
Home is where there’s one to love!
Home is where there’s one to love us!

Home’s not merely roof and room,
It needs something to endear it;
Home is where the heart can bloom,
Where there’s some kind lips to cheer it.

What is not home with none to meet,
None to welcome, none to greet us?
Home is sweet–and only sweet–
Where there’s one we love to meet us!

 

Is this not true? The most beautiful house cannot be called HOME without love within its walls. But from where does this love come? Unfortunately for us, we love ourselves far too much, and as a result are not humble enough to do the loving things, the one-another-ing things, the foot-washing things, the forgiving and serving. Instead we wait or expect or demand others to respect us, love us, serve us–the very opposite nature of Christ and from whom love is defined.

Two people meet, and are attracted to each other. They come from different backgrounds. Two personalities are brought into focus–each endeavoring to express itself in everyday living. It is then that we realize that we must remember to forbear, to be courteous, to seek not our own pleasure–but to consider the one we love. Hurts are felt–but easily mended–when there’s LOVE…

In Drive By Marriage, Todd Friel talks about this very concept. He rightly says that when we strive against our spouse, we ought to remember who the biggest sinner in the house is (hint: it’s not your spouse). We also ought to remember that if Christ died for our spouse, taking on his or her sins, then we have no right to withhold forgiveness should repentance come. Forgiveness ought to be readily and willingly available, because Christ died for sinners, of which we were (and are) chief in our household. A lack of love and forgiveness breeds biting and bickering, and ultimately a devouring of one another. A lack of love leads to death.

When children come to bless our homes–it is then we must be especially careful not to push each other aside–but even with this added interest–to keep the glow of love very much aflame–to keep the same consideration of each other very active–as love deepens through the years. Love is precious–but God’s love enhances all other loves. It gives to tolerance and understanding in times of stress. The song ‘I love you truly’ is one that expresses one’s feelings long after the initial vows are made. The experiences of life–and the expressions of love–tend to merge two people into one as days are exchanged for years…

Perhaps it is a difficult notion to consider the home as God’s delight, with a loving husband and a respectful wife, with children around the meal table and an atmosphere of acceptance and forgiveness. Perhaps it seems impossible, or too late. Regardless of the situation, God’s Word has not changed and never shall; and God is a bulwark never failing. He binds up the brokenhearted and heals wounds and dry bones; your heart is never without hope in Him.

We have thousands of years of faithful witnesses like this departed sister proclaiming these truths. May we hear these witnesses, and live our lives in such a way that we become them for future generations to come.

Homeschool High School Panic…or Not

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From 2011

I think the homeschool high school panic has begun.  My oldest is finishing up her 8th grade year this spring and all I can think of is “aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!”  Not that I’m concerned about her educational progress, because she’s done (and is doing) rather well.  But what gets my attention is the fact that I only have several more years with her until she’s winging it pretty much on her own.

Today I looked at all of the schoolbooks and was a little (ok, a lot…) dissatisfied.  We’ve been mixing textbooks with literature books, but today I felt a bit discouraged.  There are SO many more books I want her to read before she leaves home!  I began to ponder chucking the textbooks completely so that she could just read-read-read, and NOT have to fill in the blanks, answer questions, or take exams.  Of course she would still be writing, practicing music and taking math….but can’t she just READ historical novels and READ scientific biographies and READ more devotionals and READ more classic literature?

Furthermore, now that I’ve been thinking about it, I have a LOAD of books I want to read aloud to all of the kids, too.  I’m just pondering what our day would look like if what we mostly did was read, play outside, and practice our handwork and projects while listening to audio books.  What if they produced one finished composition a week, did several hours of math and music practice, and spent more time outside picking up rocks to watch the bugs.

Maybe you’re thinking, “it’s just the typical ‘I’m not doing enough!’ homeschool-mom-syndrome.”

Believe me, it’s not.  I was a public school student.  Then, I was a public school teacher.  I worked in the system.  I remember well the time wasted, the kids just passed on through…I wish I could go back and apologize to every student I ever had for not encouraging their parents to keep them home to be educated…

Today

 

I found the previous draft in my blog folder. What angst I had. And what a turn of events, also. I had no idea that during those years, my concerns about proper textbooks would seem puny compared to downsizing and welcoming more babies into our family, including our second with Down syndrome. I had no idea a massive tree would fall onto our van (obviously, we were spared), or that our sweet companion animals would die or that we would undertake yet another move two years after the first one. In other words, plans are one thing, but how it shakes out are another.

Two years ago, we graduated our first child, the one I wrote about above. And last weekend, we graduated our second child, even though we never got around to listening to audio books while working on hand crafts for either one. I still love the romantic notion of that, and the sweet social media pictures portraying it, but it’s not a reality for us: too many busy toddlers, for one. And, as mentioned, too many life upheavals.

But here we are at graduation, still. For our family, homeschooling has meant far more than academics, which are important, to be sure. It has in addition meant growing into adulthood with godly character. It has meant having the opportunity and privlege to cultivate a lasting influence upon them, and for them to likewise instill a lasting influence upon their siblings (and us!). It has meant allowing them the freedom to pursue their own interests, whether it be flying airplanes, playing in orchestras, or learning American Sign Language. To graduate a homeschooler from our home, there must be more than boxes checked off for composition, math, and science; there must be an outward maturity, a readiness for adulthood proved by their attitudes and responsibilities thus far.

It would be lovely to give you the rest of the story, of how our slow schooling pans out, of how happy and prosperous and (fill in the blank hopes) our children have achieved in life. Our older children are trying their wings, and we don’t feel compelled to shove them out of the nest (yet). Instead, it’s a nudge here and a nudge there, waiting and encouraging and supporting them, offering counsel and giving them options, pointing out opportunities and setting down reasonable expectations.

All I know for sure at this point is this. God is bigger than any of our plans, and I have no regrets homeschooling and homeliving with these children. It’s an honor and  joy, and I know they will be a blessing to our community, economy, and country too. I believe they already are!

Keep going, Mama. The high school years aren’t scary; they are exciting. Map out your academics, but remember life is bigger than textbooks, and that God is good, all the time. I’ll let you know how it goes, another seven years from now 😉

Go to now, ye that say, To day or to morrow we will go into such a city, and continue there a year, and buy and sell, and get gain:
Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away. For that ye ought to say, If the Lord will, we shall live, and do this, or that.  James 4:13-15

 

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Get Uncomfortable

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Art date with my ah-mazing artist friend

 

That’s what Tom and I were told when we met with a man we respected for lunch: “Get uncomfortable.” We wanted to meet with someone who would listen to our wild, farfetched ideas and give us advice. He was a good listener, and shared many wise thoughts, one of which was the importance of maintaining a level of discomfort in life. A comfortable person, it turns out, remains stagnant. And only dead fish are stagnant, I suppose.

So as we shared the story of our newest baby’s birth in our latest podcast, I recognized my discomfort. I wanted to remain hidden. Instead I was brought out. I see this in my writing, as well. I write about private things that I am learning, but publishing those thoughts–whether blog, book, social media, or podcast– is another way of public discomfort. And if I want to write more, or open a business, or create a venue for a community of mothers to come together and strengthen one another…well, I’m going to have to be uncomfortable. Because doing anything out in the open, shining a light on anything Christ-like at all, is going to attract. If you are a Christian, you already know this. I bet you too, long to hide at times.

Recently I received such an encouraging message, I want to share it with you. Not to point to myself, but to SHARE it with you, because this speaks to YOU, where YOU are, too. Your life matters. Your marriage matters. Your family and the decisions you make concerning them matters. YOU, there on the homefront: what you’re doing MATTERS.

“….You are truly peculiar and remarkable….your simple life and calling is what is changing the whole world. No matter what the powerful politicians decide, nothing will stand against your tranquil and quiet life as you go against this culture under the banner of Jesus Holy Name.”

Are you uncomfortable? Do you want to hide your Christian witness, Christian opportunity, Christian endeavors? Maybe it is better to stay uncomfortable. Too much comfort can not only cause sleepwalking through life, but breed smugness and pride in the false security of Private Worship (I suppose we independent Americans love that idea). By the grace of God, lean upon and depend upon HIM to be your comfort and your joy, your wisdom and your secure foundation. And attend a good, local church;  we need you there to depend on, to depend upon us, too! Then, if and when He brings your work(s) out into the open, whether unloading your children from the van or giving you a public opportunity to share the gospel, you’ll be the feisty fish in the river, not the dead one floating along with the current.

Are you discouraged in your discomfort? Hang in there, Mama. You know how the story ends. Just keep swimming…

 

Different

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Once upon a time, I had one baby, my firstborn. At nine months, she still wasn’t sleeping through the night and the lack of sleep combined with the stress of returning to work part-time drove my mind into suffocating and deep waters of anxiety, sorrow, and yes, even a bit of anger and resentment over those circumstances. I remember how my husband paced the hall with her during the wee hours so that I could get at least an hour of sleep. I remember utterly failing to be the kind of mother I most wanted to be.

When I’m lacking sleep, my mind is mush. And when my eyes are solely upon my own needs and wants, my heart is mush. And when there’s a lot of mush, my decisions and choices are not the best (like, feeling compelled to return to a classroom of five year olds rather than stay home with my baby). And when my choices aren’t the best, everything is mush, and I am drained of energy. That’s the circular route I was taking, and the tracks were well-worn.

One Sunday I boldly sought out a woman I knew nothing about except that she was a mother of eight, which was rather strange to me. But I figured she must know something about getting babies to sleep. She graciously helped me, and all of my babies (nine of them this side of heaven) have slept since. Well…almost…I’m still working on this little guy. He’s keeping me humble 🙂

But now I am the strange one, that homeschooling mom in the big van with the Jesus sticker (it came with the van!) with lots of people in it. That mom currently changing diapers for the twentieth year in a row, still picking up dried macaroni on the floor and singing Raffi songs. That breastfeeding, granola-crunchy, natural-gray-haired, fiber-paint-artist, make-the-food-from-scratch, downsizing-upsizing, podcasting, blogging mom.

I’m also the mom who will smile at you if you are wrangling your screaming tots into the grocery cart and tell you outright, “You’re doing great, Mama. Nap time awaits!” And yet I still get frustrated by the bickering, spilt milk, and torn clothing at home. I’m the mom who loves my family, my husband, and my household tasks, but who also longs to do something Important, Useful, Beautiful and Lucrative. And yes, I know I already do all of those things (sorta kinda in a broad sense), but I long for other dreams at times, so I try to pursue my creative side, my inner world, too. In my spare time (grin).

Mothering today is different from what I remember as a child. It seems more lonely, even with the “connection” of social media. So I’m also, quite deeply, the mom a little zealous of encouraging women in their lives under Christ, even while failing miserably in my unrealistic and extravagant aspirations to live a life holy unto the Lord. I still fail daily. That keeps me humble, too.

I want you to know that I know. Mothering is hard. But someday you’ll be twenty years ahead of that little baby causing your brain to be a little loopy and you’ll wonder whatever happened to the years between. And if you keep your children close and start doing stuff like soaking your grains for homemade bread baking, you’ll also be the strange one, and maybe some young mom will seek you out for help.

Take courage to be that different mom. Take a moment to ask for help, or to give it. Take one day at a time. Take those wee hands in yours and kiss those sweet fat cheeks. Take a nap. Take a turn on the swing. I don’t know any mother who feels like she parents perfectly, but the ones I know with the most joy depend on their perfect heavenly Father to fill in the gaps, and they ultimately trust their children to Him.

Even if, perhaps especially when, they’re tired 😉

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Q&A: Pgy in 40’s, food prep, chillax’ing

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Seasonings by my stovetop
(better in a dark place but we go through them fast)

 

Sometimes I get questions. I thought I’d start sharing some of my answers here, in case it might benefit others. I love hearing from you (no, you’re not “bugging” me), so feel free to ask. Just know it may take me some time to respond…and I may do so here 🙂

Q. Regarding the safety of carrying a pregnancy in a woman close to 40 years old…

A. I’ve had three babies in my 40’s. The youngest is 3 months old and I am 48. The pregnancy, labor, and births in my 40’s were by far better than in my late 20’s and 30’s. Yes, there are risks as you get older–I have two children with Down syndrome (not in a row). But I also personally know a woman who was in her twenties and her first child had Down syndrome, too. I have nine children, 3 months to 20 years, and all are very healthy otherwise (we’ve only had one “tiny” cavity, but many braces–probably due to my own health in childhood and in pregnancy before figuring it out). I attribute their good health to God, WAPF nutrition principles, chiropractic care, homeopathy and herbs.

I think there is a lot of emphasis on “just as long as the baby is healthy”. Well, sometimes, the baby isn’t despite doing everything “right” and although sad and difficult it doesn’t negate the beauty and blessing of that person. Furthermore, we have helped parents grieve the deaths of several children who were healthy at birth and still succumbed to the tragedy that sometimes befalls us all. There are no guarantees in life.

My advice? Take great care of your body the best you can and enjoy the fruit of your body, whatever age you may happen to be 🙂

 

Q. What makes you so chillax? Have you always been that way?

A. This one made me laugh. Chillax? Both the term AND what it means. I’m rather a perfectionist at heart but I’ve learned over time and in experience that (1) my in-box will still be full when I die and (2) people are more important. So if I have to choose between getting the housekeeping “just right” and keeping to a rigid “schedule”…or joining my kid to do a puzzle or take time with a friend for coffee…then I’m doing the puzzle and having coffee. My family knows I am way more relaxed when things are in order, so they suffer through my constant decluttering and we keep a daily/weekly chore chart going. Also, I believe anxiety, stress, and worry are not Holy Spirit-led, so “crazy busy” is not part of my vocabulary.

 

Q. I spend a good bit of time preparing food, feeding people, then cleaning up the mess. How do you handle food prep?

A. Currently I have older kids who do the majority of kitchen work, but I will answer this as to how I did it beforehand. Food prep happened all day long, to keep ahead of the meals. Typically we would get breakfast out, wipe up the table, and then homeschool. Once the kids were into their independent work, I’d have my toddler on his or her “playmat” by my feet where I rotated toys. That way, I could keep an eye on the toddler while cleaning up the kitchen (I cleaned up after every meal) and also doing something to prepare for later, whether that was feeding sourdough starters or chopping up mirepoix. Lunch was the same way: eat, clean up, do something: season the meat, or get out the ingredients (even if it were just canned goods–just line them up on the counter). In this case, by the time supper comes around, the meat is seasoned, the pasta and canned tomato is already on the counter, and I already have my mirepoix chopped. That evening, after cleaning up, I’ll again do something for the next day: soak beans, and/or prepare oatmeal. I find what makes food prep all that much easier is thinking and knowing ahead of time what the next meal is going to be. I’m a big fan of menu planning to save money and also to relieve that late afternoon “I don’t know what to cook” which, inevitably, leads to spending more money, not to mention meals lacking in quality nutrition.

 

Q. Your common breakfast foods? Lunch foods? Dinner foods?

A. Breakfast: soaked porridge/oatmeal/pancakes, eggs, kefir/buttermilk, sourdough toasts, hot buttered tea or coffee (I like my drinks creamy). Cod liver oil (we use this one). Lunches: almost always leftovers (I plan for that by making more supper than I think I need for that meal). We like to turn leftovers into “lunch bowls” by adding rice or pasta for a base to whatever the leftovers are. Then maybe a bit of shredded cheese on top, a ferment like carrots or sauerkraut, and a drizzle of olive oil. Sliced oranges. Glass of whole, raw milk. Suppers: usually meat based with plenty of vegetables. Potatoes more in the winter, salads more in the summer. Snacks: popcorn with butter and seasoning (powdered seaweed, powdered kale, garlic, nutritional yeast), or nut butter/hummus/guacamole with dips (carrots, chips, celery…), crackers with cheese, or a treat such as scones with butter and homemade jam or a bundt coffee cake with fresh cream. Desserts: occasionally. I do like baking cookies late in the evening 🙂

 

Blessings,

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Present and Living On Purpose: Part Five (Goals and Dreams)

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My days are full of children,
but my spare minutes involve yarn and paint

Evening is when I finally get to have a bit of quiet and settle into a book, right before I close my eyes for the night.  Because it is at the end of my day I may get only half a short chapter read on a topic that currently interests me before I fall asleep. It doesn’t seem like much.

And yet, over time, it is.

As much as I’d love to schedule an hour of quiet study time or sewing or writing (or…) in my day, I am a mother of many children and most of them can sense from the other side of the house that “Mom is alone and trying to focus on something” no matter what time of day it is. I am also homeschooling all of those children so they have need of me to be present: physically, mentally and emotionally. These people are not “interruptions” to my own ambitions (see my book Present for my lessons learned), so, unlike the precious and primary responsibilities of my tasks and responsibilities as a wife, mother and homemaker, the “wouldn’t it be nice” dreams or crafts are fit into spots here and there.

In my experience, goals and dreams don’t need a whole lot of focus, but rather the commitment to plant them and make sure there’s a bit of watering now and then. They still pop up like daffodils in the end, no matter how long the slow slumber feels.

As an example, I enjoy art journaling. It’s a perfect art for me–I can’t finish it in one sitting even if I wanted to, because layers of paint take time to dry. So my art page usually goes something like this: gesso or paint on the page (get on with the rest of my morning)…tear papers and collage with glue (get on with the rest of my afternoon)…add some stamps or inks or more paints (let it go until the next day)…and so on. Little by little, the piece gets done.

I call this sort of working “picking at it”. Just little bits at a time, the thing is accomplished. I’ve made countless quilts while raising my littles, and they were done the same way: a few squares cut at a time, perhaps 15 minutes on the machine while supper is cooking or babies are playing. It’s the same way I knit (one row at time), weave (one throw at a time), or read (one chapter at a time, if I’m lucky enough to stay awake). It’s also how I managed to get a number of advanced studies done from home (one homework assignment at a time).

Maybe you have a big goal or dream that is in your heart, but feel daunted by its size or your real lack of time. But can you paint your kitchen one cupboard at a time, plant a garden one 2’ x 2’ bed at a time, or read the entire Bible one section at a time? That seems reasonable, doesn’t it? Truly, we ought not to despise the small things.

Or perhaps you have a multitude of things you’d like to do and feel paralyzed on where to start and so never begin (or is that just me?). One problem may be saving (via “likes” or pins, etc.) so many pictures and projects for inspiration that we never actually DO anything with all of that inspiration. It’s overwhelming and can dampen any enthusiasm or energy to put even one great idea into motion. Indeed, we may feel accomplished for all of the saving we did even if nothing evolves in reality!

I am convinced most of us have time to at least “pick at” a project. As I mentioned in the last blog post, many challenges could be mitigated with a schedule (or routine) and an objective tool such as a timer or a smartphone app. Sure, you may not sew up for yourself an entire wardrobe while you’re chasing around a toddler (or three), but you might get one beautiful shirt that you love sewn. And one is more than none.

Other than picking at goals a little here and there, here are four more thoughts towards achieving goals and dreams even while maintaining a commitment to serving your family in a very busy home:

  1. You don’t have to share those goals and dreams with everyone (or anyone)…
    Have you ever shared a particular interest to learn something and gotten negativity in return? It doesn’t matter if you want to throw pottery or a softball, someone will find fault in it or try to shame you for it. Share sparingly.
  2. …but you’d be blessed if you shared them with your children.
    On the other hand, engaging your children with this part of your life is so good for building relationship. Let them watercolor with you, feed the goats with you, or try making sauerkraut with you. Let them be WITH YOU. Even if they discover that your interest isn’t so interesting, they’ve learned by your example that learning and trying new things is a lifelong and joyful process.
  3. Your goals don’t have to have a “point”.
    Yes, sometimes what you set as a goal is useful (such as earning extra money by it), but art or gardening or learning to, I don’t know, thatch a rooftop, for its own sake is useful, too because it allows for self-expression and ultimately brings you beauty and pleasure. It doesn’t matter if you can buy eggs from the store for half the price if keeping the hens delight you.
  4. You don’t need to “arrive”.
    Lastly, if your interests change, it doesn’t mean you wasted your time in previous endeavors. God uses everything in our lives to challenge us, grow us, and ultimately point us to Himself. Your education and practice is not a waste if it never makes you famous or rich. It’s all right to abandon a dream that has lost its luster and do something else instead. It’s not a sunk cost of time or money, because you squeezed out everything you could at the time you were engaged with it. Now? Not so much, so let it go and go build something else.

Do you have some goals or dreams turned off just sitting on the back burner going cold? Let them come up front and have a slow simmer instead. Pick at those projects a wee bit at a time. Forget giving yourself a “deadline”. Over time, even if your days are full of energetic and messy children, the thing will get done. Soon enough, those children will be grown and gone and you might have all the time in the world to do what you please. Don’t pine for those days but instead enjoy the little snippets you have right now to dabble and play alongside them. It’s not “choose between raising children or chasing your dreams/talents”. It’s “and-both”. Together, in due time.

 

Blessings,

Away and Back…I Think.

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Well, hello.

 

I came across this photo just today and was reminded of my old life at the big house–the one with livestock, raised beds, plenty of room to roam…and the various burdens of trying to keep it all going. I remember when Tom and I came to the conclusion that we needed to step back. Tom called it an “Everyone out of the pool!” time. Time to stop, step out, check the water, and reassess if all of this was really what we were supposed to be doing because there were times we felt like we were drowning. So we sold or gave away all of the animals, sold the McMansion we built from scratch, and downsized into an uninsulated little bungalow with major water problems (both coming and going) for two years. Now we live on a quiet suburb street in a nice rental, but there are no garden spaces to speak of and certainly no goats allowed.

 

It was the right decision. But now and again there pines a certain homesickness for those chickens and some dirt under my fingernails.

 

During that transition time, I sort of felt like I lost my bearings, especially when it came to blogging. It was easy for me to blog about homesteading at the old house because there was always something going on, in my mind, worth blogging about. In our new house, Tom would try to encourage me (“Write about the pie you baked!”) but my response was usually the same: (a) no one wants to hear about my pie and (b) someone’s already said it better than me, anyhow. And the thing is…both are still true in many ways. But I’ve come to realize that (a) it’s not about the pie and (b) it’s not about trying to be anyone else, either, and there’s nothing new under the sun, not even pie.

 

Another hiccup happened along to the way to where I am now, maybe a speed bump, I don’t know. I got weary of criticism. I tried to *monetize* my blog and the backlash was immediate and hurtful. Maintaining a website takes real dollars, and I suppose not every one knows (or cares) about that. In the end, I decided I still wasn’t ready or willing to deal with the negativity, so I simply slowed my writing. All because a small handful felt not only compelled to keep reading what they apparently didn’t like or agree with, but to let me know about it.

 

But, you know, slowly, I learned some stuff. Like: I’m still me, and I still have the blessed gift of observation and of being able to–sometimes–connect the dots in meaningful ways. My different locations or circumstances may change me in some way (and they certainly do!), but they don’t take away the very real presence of God, my family, and Holy Spirit desires within me to glorify God regardless of where I am. And I still like to write.

 

I also learned I can’t change people I find hurtful. Just because they don’t like me or what I write doesn’t mean I am any less beloved or that my writing matters less. It means we see the world in different ways–it doesn’t mean they can tell me to stop writing because I may say something disagreeable (to them).

 

Lastly, I learned that my deep seated goals haven’t changed a bit. I still desire to follow Jesus. I still find satisfaction in the writing itself and am willing to pay for the platform. I still desire to cultivate a home that is creative, happy, and full of life. I still value making deliberate decisions on how I spend my time and am still willing to fight the battle against draining and depressing outlets (usually a screen of some sort). I reject that being “busy” is a sign of productivity, and instead want to pay attention to my routines and rituals that let me not only get a lot done, but in ways that are relaxed and accessible.

 

So here I am. I’m not the same blogger I was a dozen-plus years ago, but my hope is still the same: that what I share will be a pleasure to write and that someone, somewhere, will be blessed and encouraged by it. Below are some pics to catch you all up with where I’ve been. And if you’re new here, hello…I’m Keri Mae.

 

I traded dirt under my nails for paint.

Just because I can’t grow flowers doesn’t mean I can’t draw and paint them.

 

I taught myself how to weave because I appreciate handmade.

I dream of a handmade home, through and through.

 

This is the latest project off my loom. It didn’t come out how I wanted, but there’s still beauty there. (Do you get me?)

I’m still a herbalist and I’ve been studying homeopathy like crazy.

I love connecting all of the botanical dots

and keeping my family healthy, too!

Sometimes my art is a mess. But it’s still lovely to me.

I guess attitude and expectation matter a lot in many areas of life.

I’m still taking classes or reading books

or learning about so many things in many ways.

I crave to cultivate the spices on this page throughout my days.

Perhaps most importantly, I’m still just a mom, just like most of you.

I’m still changing diapers.

I get it and I affirm with you the importance and blessing of womanhood

and motherhood and of spending our time well in it all.

We’re still podcasting when we can have some quietness in a home with nine children (hahaha). Otherwise, you can subscribe to my blog to keep up or find me on Instagram where I am “mini-blogging” with people who share the same goal and purpose I have: to glorify God through a deliberate and simple life. Thank you for following along in my journey. I’m glad for the traveling companions.

Blessings,

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Coming and Going

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The year flickered out with a whimper, layered by a gray gauze of sorrow overlapping the bright holiday lights and buzzy mood in town. It seems impossible in so many years, but we witnessed a third child laid to rest in his resurrection bed, a third most grievous accident (accidents are the leading cause of death for children). Our entire congregation is still bent with mourning, this loss of a sweet young boy. You can read Isaiah’s story here, should your heart desire to bear up this family with your prayers for comfort and healing. Regarding the other two children lost, Hannah’s mother spoke to us regarding her loss in this podcast, and Lemuel hasn’t been gone even a year yet. It is a heavy burden, these sorrows, and yet each family glorifies God by their faith and trust in their own ways. We all know the world’s pitiful offerings. Sparkly lights. Not much power.


In this midst of such suffering, comes our newest baby. I had hoped for a (rare) quiet and uneventful birth, but was transported at the last for an emergency caesarean. I was also hoping to quietly welcome our newest family member, but instead was thrust into the spotlight by a whopping 13lb 4oz delivery. I was not diagnosed with gestational diabetes nor did I measure “big” in my pregnancy, but there he is, “biceps fat as hakuri turnips” as my farmer friends chided. We are rejoicing in his arrival!

 


Romans 12:15   Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep.

I find this difficult to do, this blend of mourning and rejoicing. One inevitably colors the other, and laughter and tears become slush. It is a grand picture of the world at large, this mix of glory and garbage, God’s grace and man’s sin. Tears are a right response to the deep pain of the world, and laughter a joy from the Lord in the good things He purposes and brings about (even, we might say, from tragedy). In this new year, as blessings and trials befall, let us hold fast to keeping our eyes upon His return, nearing as every calendar day turns over. For our sorrows are short considering the joys to come; we know this.

Are you grieving a loss, or know of someone suffering? It is a hard and unapologetic road, but not one without the Lord’s presence and leading. Here is a short video of Isaiah’s service, with his mother singing. Grief and pain are real. So is God’s grace.

 

 

Isaiah’s father preached a number of sermons in the aftermath of his son’s death. They have touched a multitude of lives. This man knows grief right up close. These aren’t just words of faith; they are words of Truth, on which his (and our) faith securely rests.

Suffering and Hope

God of Comfort

Sacrifice of Praise

Joy to the World

 

This is also a helpful resource:

 

In this new year, I pray you would find your primary business to be fellowship with the Lord. Nothing else is as urgent, and dear. Also, I have been pondering many things on cultivating a happy home in an age of distractions, and I hope to share them with you, for the distractions are many and the rewards of chasing them fleeting and few. May we be found faithful, friends.

Blessings,

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Brave

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Twice in the past couple of weeks I have been told that I am brave. But I know that I am not.

The first was a bantering between two baristas while I waited for my London Fog, about how brave I was to homeschool, about how they could never do that. I think I mumbled something like, “Oh, I’m sure you could…” while the milk was getting foamed but I didn’t feel invited to the conversation. After the second time of reassuring me of my lioness super educator powers that mere moms do not possess, I stood there with my cup in hand and said, “Actually…I think YOU are the brave ones…sending your children to school…I’m not sure I could do that…” Suddenly both were agreeing with me, combating with one another about whose kid had it worse: poor teachers, mean kids, dumb work, peer pressure (at six years old), boredom during the summer. Their words, not mine. I thanked them for my drink and left. But I didn’t feel brave.

The second time was from a sweet elderly woman who looked me straight in the eye after our pregnancy announcement and gave me the same pronouncement: I must be (as in “am”, not “ought to be”) very brave. Actually, when I consider how I have declined to correct other’s assumptions of my childbearing beliefs, I see that I have perhaps neglected to put up my dukes stand up for myself (I do admit, however, muscle strain from eye rolling, in private). Perhaps a start? One, I had never even heard of the “quiverful movement” until I had three or four children; perhaps I became a member by default rather than by consideration and commitment. Secondly, I never made any sort of law regarding birth control, other than nothing ought to take the life of an innocent human being once conceived. Third, I never felt like I was marching to some sort of extraordinary righteousness by having any number of children; actually, I was humbled that I was able to conceive any at all after a long, sad stay in “why can’t we get pregnant?” land. Bravery? How about fear of infertility? How about simply not wanting anyone missing from our family? How about always having room for “just one more”?

There are some things I understand from Scripture, and I am a simple reader that tries not to read things into the text that aren’t there (any writer knows how annoying that is). One, I am to be a keeper at home. Two, children are a blessing. Three, I am under the protection and authority of my husband. And, as I shared in my book Present, I am to keep my feet (as it were) at home…not to go gadding about from post to post or to be distracted and captivated by a screen at the expense of my relationship with God or with my family.

These things I know sound archaic (to put it nicely). In fact, I have been shunned and slandered, both privately and publicly, sometimes “in jest” and sometimes in earnest. It’s part of the reason I cower and desire to play like Elizabeth and hide my pregnancy! In every case of worldly finger wagging (or worse), no civil conversation or curiosity with me preceded it, and according to those waggers, I am truly not brave but depraved. I am considered shun-shame-and-slander worthy. So they do. And I remember from the previous Book mentioned that out of the heart the mouth speaks and so I am sad but hardly surprised.

I am neither brave nor depraved. Rather, in humility, repentance and faith, I have met and been cleansed by Almighty God who has clothed me in His righteousness and now calls me friend. And I know because of that, I walk a narrow road that can get pretty lonely in terms of company. At times I have doubts as I kick pebbles along the way about the choices I make. Am I being faithful or foolish? ( the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God…). Am I being sober or stubborn? (No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God…So will I sing praise unto thy name for ever, that I may daily perform my vows...). As I walk up difficult hills of uncertainties or trials, I have no idea if a pleasant stroll through a beautiful meadow is up ahead or if rocks are going to crumble underneath me as I climb yet higher. All I know is that I am to press on, to run the race, to finish and then to die well.

My walk with the Lord is not results oriented. I can’t claim that my homeschooled kids will be honor students or that I will never have children with challenges (obviously). I can’t guarantee that my husband won’t ever leave me or that my house won’t burn down. I walk with the Lord simply because He walks with me and I want to go where He is going. Jesus is the best companion ever! He is the One who leads the way, who whispers, “This is the way….walk in it…” and who, even while I am attempting to heft my own worries and burdens says to me, “Give Me your burdens…let Me carry them…” Now and then He allows me to discern the end of those who mock my clinginess to God, and when He intercedes for me in such tangible ways I both fear and love Him all the more.

I don’t think this means I am brave and heroic. It’s more like I am broken and hungry. I am a weak little sparrow who knows from where the crumbs come for my care. I hear His voice when He says to “fear not” but I also stay put in the palm of His pierced hand, sometimes with great fear on this narrow path of His. I do not know that I will ever be really brave or thick-skinned in this world. All I know is that I am content with Jesus, and that someday I know I will fearlessly fly. He will see to that.

 

Blessings,

It’s Worth It

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That is what someone told me when in her enthusiasm for adopting I felt compelled to exhort her to have a community of support readily available to her family. Any child who has suffered the trauma of separation from his or her mama is already in need of special attention and care, and some children struggle more than others in attaching to their new families, even if they were infants at adoption. This is experiential knowledge to any adoptive parent, and several I personally know. She readily agreed about the potential hardships, and enthused, “But it’s worth it!”

I remember wishing I had this rare joy in potential (or even probable) tribulation. But even with advance notice, nothing really prepares you for the actual journey through most of marriage (or not), fertility (or not), motherhood, homemaking, and more. There are plenty of moments where you do wonder if “it” is “worth it”.

Two of our children have Down syndrome. Some of you remember Ruby’s birth and my subsequent disappearance from blogging. Down syndrome is challenging. From the birth itself, to overcoming health problems, to trying to get a handle on what to do, when, why, and how. Of course, my girls are “worth it”…they’re my daughters. But sometimes it’s hard when people send news of other kids with Down syndrome for “encouragement”: one is Homecoming Queen, one speaks four languages, one owns his own business, one models.  Our celebrations are more humble: Ruby stopped pooping her pants, doesn’t throw her dishes off the table anymore, and can pump her own legs on a swing.

I succumb to only showing the happy moments, too. It’s precious to see her smile or starting to read…but no one wants to hear her grind her teeth or throw a tantrum. Other “normal family” moments are rare. We can’t take long walks or nature hikes. We hardly go to restaurants. She needs to be monitored all of the time with a GPS tracker because she likes to run off. Reading aloud (including devotionals) to everyone is difficult, if not impossible. And so on.

There’s a reason we’re quick to gloss over the troubles of any kind. Because sometimes people actually say things like you brought it upon yourself, or you’re being punished by God. Because enough friends have quietly disappeared. Because other people who have become practical PhD’s on your child’s condition or discipline problems or marital issues make you feel small. Because, and especially because, life is a precious gift no matter what challenges our children may have, and we don’t want to discourage baring or loving them. Every child, indeed all of US, have “special” needs. Furthermore, every marriage goes through those “for worse” or “in sickness” times that were accurately predicted even on the wedding day. There must be something transcendent to foresee these things, experience them, and still say wholeheartedly, “It’s worth it!” We don’t need to gloss over the troubles, but we do need to maintain a steadfast faith that the end of all things are somehow for our good in Christ Jesus no matter how difficult things may look.

We need to define what “worth it” really means, because sometimes it’s the antithesis of humility and trust, of looking away from the cross, in order to behave selfishly. Self-love leads inevitably to compulsive self-serving, instead of looking after the things of Christ. Every difficulty is “worth it” when knowing God is faithful and kind. He doesn’t expect us to have our ducks in a row ahead of time, to know what is coming tomorrow. Even on the hardest days, God is working in His children all for His glory, and we will not be unchanged in the process of becoming more like Christ. This enthusiastic adoptive parent was far from being selfish; she knew where real treasure lay and was setting about the journey by faith in the joy to come, whether in her lifetime or beyond the veil.

How could there be such joy in the hard things? It seems other-worldly, and I suppose it is. I am weak, I do not know all of the answers or the why’s. But I know my Redeemer lives, and I know Whom I have believed, and so every new challenge in my life is, truly, “worth it”. So I will look forward to the paths to come–including our newest baby due this December, our ninth. I know in my heart of hearts the continued journey through motherhood WILL be worth it, Christ be praised.

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How to Be a Good Mom

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Playtime

 

Well, doesn’t that sound like a provoking blog title? Immediately, I am at odds. Who can say what is “good”? And who could even begin to claim being good? If I am satisfied with myself, I am in danger of pride. If I am in despair over my efforts, I am in danger of despondency. Both have their roots in unbelief, that I either shun God’s righteous standard or belittle the grace He offers. Poise is reflective, whether I consider the idea of a “good mom” with crossed arms and scowling, or with my face and shoulders pulled round and low.

And yet it is there, this deep pool of desire to achieve the title, to know that trophy has been won. Advertisers know this: you’re a good mom depending on what you feed your children, how they’re educated, and what brands they wear. Culture knows this too: you’re a good mom if you have the right number of (non-handicapped) children or if they carry the banner and road map of whatever is deemed currently important and relevant in that society.

You need to know that although your influence is profound, you are not in complete control of your children. Some of you know this: your child has hit another person, used a swear word, lied or stolen or disobeyed. It’s one thing to know that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God; it’s quite another to see it in action under your very own nose. And yet we’re still surprised and feel the tension between getting them to behave for the sake of our own good standing, or disavowing their poor choices…for the sake of our own good standing. Again, pride rears its ugly head.

Acknowledging our own battle with WHY we desire to have the title of Good Mom is a good start towards actually becoming one. Agreeing with God that there is none that is good, not even one, allows for some honest learning and growth in whatever fruit of the Spirit He is tending at that moment. Even when (especially when?) parenting is driving you nuts.

So take this list as a thoughtful experiment, as a provocation to consider your ways in motherhood. If you fly through check, check, check…..uh, oh. But if you sit with your hands in your head crying…..uh, oh. I would encourage you to find your strength and foundation on the Rock, not on your performance. Agree that you have failed, that you are failing, that you will fail, and then add those magnificent words BUT GOD. He delights in leading those with young. If He is your Shepherd, He will lead you every hour. If He is not your Shepherd, He will mercifully and kindly invite you to follow. Both take humility.

Here are some thoughts in the matter, of how to be a “good mom”:

* Take mommyhood seriously (but don’t take everything so seriously).
* Be real–kids are especially gifted with smelling out hypocrisy.
* Don’t burden your kids with your own happiness–telling them that they are your world or reason for living is an incredible weight.
* Be–or work to become–who you want them to be.
* Show up–be interested. Show up for their games, their art shows, their Lego creations. Care enough to look at their drawings or the mud pie in the backyard.

* Don’t rely on the report card to tell you how they did; actually look at their math, read their writing, and listen to them read.
* Be interesting–keep learning! Let them see you read, study, take classes, try new things.
* Let them in with what you’re doing. Let them stir the sauce, hammer the nail, pass out business cards, or feed the baby.
* Give them a little space: physically, emotionally, mentally.
* Make them work. The reality is that they ARE working with their hands, their minds, their hearts, all of the time. Are they working on things that matter?
* Don’t disparage their dad. Ever. If he’s a monster in jail, then let them at least see that you pity him and are concerned for his salvation.
* Relax. You don’t run the universe and you can’t control it. And yes, it’s a scary world but it’s also a beautiful one. Find your balance between letting your kids explore and keeping them safe.

I asked my kids what they thought constituted a “good mom”. This is what they said, in their own words:

* Love your kids–which may mean spanking them.
* Don’t do everything your kids ask you to do.
* Mean what you say.
* Be cheerful.
* Include kids in your chores.
* Be weird now and then.
* Don’t be sarcastic.
* Try to be well rested.
* Have a Bible time.
* Don’t say “no” all of the time.
* Go outside with the kids.
* Don’t divorce.
* Cookies are an essential part of childhood.

May you have peace in your mothering, well rooted in Christ and in HIS goodness.

Blessings,

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Twenty Years of Mothering

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Well, almost. Twenty years if you count the pregnancy with my firstborn…and because she was my baby even while in the womb, I do. Does twenty years of mothering count me in as “the older woman” now? I don’t know. Somehow I think, “not yet”, because I still have eight children at home, and I have no grandchildren. And I have been rather silent the past year in blogging, both because I have more urgent work to do and also because I wonder what else I could possibly say. But I want to say this to my mama-sisters who are in the baby and toddler trenches: don’t just embrace mothering, own it.

I am sick of political correctness mothering because it is based on the fear of man. What will people think? What will they say about me? Will they think I am a good mother? Will I get approval for how my children turn out? Let me educate you a little here: no matter what you do, especially if you carry the scent of Christ in any way and admit to trying to please and honor Him with your decisions, people will despise you, use you, disapprove of you and speak slander. And it won’t matter a spit if, for example, you homeschool or take them to the private school or anything in between: you will just be “wrong” depending on who you’re trying to impress. I’ve been around long enough to try to prove the disapprovers wrong, but they simply don’t care and unless Christ does a work in them, are irreparably bent towards knocking you and your mothering decisions down a notch or three. Even if your children end up at an Ivy League school and go on to win the Nobel Peace Prize (which I realize, neither means much anymore).

I just want to look in your eyes and tell you wholeheartedly, You Can Do This. Yes, you can. How come you can figure out how to drive a car and not figure out how to wrap a baby around you in cloth to carry safely? How come you can do research to pick the right neighborhood to live in but you can’t do research to pick the right foods to feed your family? What makes you think that because you don’t know trigonometry you can’t teach your child how to read? I think we all as mothers at times get stuck in the “I don’t know what to do…” but we don’t have to either blindly follow the “experts” or look around and do whatever everyone else is doing, especially if we don’t know or like the results. We can learn from mothers we respect who have gone before us, and use our own heads, too.

My baby was nine months old before I resigned my brilliant and lifelong-desired career to be home with her. I didn’t know anything. I had never even babysat (or even wanted to)! And I didn’t know what that herbalist meant when she said I could grind my own wheat. I had no idea what a “wheat berry” was and had never seen one. I didn’t know how to cook anything from scratch, not even a salad. But I knew I loved my child and I knew mothering was a profound gift, almost transcendent. I also knew I didn’t want to give her drugs, and I didn’t want her to suck on, wear, or play with plastic. I had no knowledge at all of HOW to do anything–all I had was a WANT. And it was that WANT that propelled me, that gave me the moxie I needed when confronted.

I WANTED my baby to be healthy. So I read many, many books on natural health and healing, starting with How to Raise a Healthy Child in Spite of Your Doctor. Wow, was that an eye-opener and so empowering. Yes, I could take care of my baby! I WANTED to know how to cook from scratch, so I started with La Leche League’s Whole Foods for the Whole Family and began by teaching myself how to cook brown rice. I WANTED to know how to run my home, keeping it clean and healthy, so I followed Fly Lady. The point is this: your WANT ought to drive you to figure it out! And I believe you can.

What is it that you long to have? A homeschooling lifestyle? Research Charlotte Mason. Do you want a drug-free family? Check out a chiropractic lifestyle, homeopathy, herbs. Do you want a strong marriage? Seek out those happy couples with decades under their belts or read good books such as Walk With Me. Do you have questions about training and discipling your children? Shepherding a Child’s Heart is a favorite and for good reason!

The point is this: You Can Do This. You can be home and raise your babies and also find plenty of creative and intellectual stimulation along the way for yourself. You are not a failure if you keep your eyes on eternal benefits, despite what the world says. And you can learn new skills and in today’s internet world, you can even run a business from home or get a book published. You have the whole world at your fingertips and the biggest challenge as I see it now is the incredible distraction all of that can be from simply living your life and enjoying your home and your children.

I am not in any wise finished. Maybe I am halfway. But if I could go back and tell my young self anything at baby number one, it would be this: God is good, God is faithful, and God will lead. You think you know these things now, but as you go further down the mothering path, you will know it in much sweeter ways. So OWN the process of being the best mother you can be and don’t believe anyone or anything that causes you to doubt the high, holy work you are doing in this world, at this time. I know changing a diaper doesn’t feel like you’re doing much, but you really are changing the world, one diaper at a time. Hold fast, and stand firm, Mama. And by His grace, twenty years later, you will cheer on the mother coming up after you as well.

Blessings,

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Thoughts on Rescuing Childhood

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Many of you know about and are following along as I write a book currently titled, Slow Schooling, and Other Thoughts on Resucing Childhood. There is a burden in my heart for the children of the world. So much womb-killing (every two minutes in our nation alone). And if they make it out of the womb, the rampant abuse and neglect that awaits them in so many parts of the world.  So many children homeless, malnurished, unloved. So many without fathers, or without mothers, or without either one. They live in a world where aborting them gets funding from world leaders, but adopting them takes a good part of a family’s salary. The trauma is overwhelming, and, unfortunately, cyclical. They end up doing exactly what they learned as children, to their own children.

I recently came across the story of Mama Kia, because of her ties to herbalism. I honestly wish I could have met her. I do not hear her professing Christ, but I do see love in action for the lost children of the world. And much of what I see on her video made me think a whole lot.

Let me ask you something. Do each and every one of your children know you are FOR them, that you are on their side? Do they each know how to grow, harvest, prepare and cook their own meals? Are they thankful for the food in their bowls, eating in gratitude? Do they appreciate the education you are giving them, and put their joy into art or music or whatever-lessons? Do they honor their heritage, appreciate the elders in their lives? Are they thankful for their clothing, their toys and books, taking great care for them? Do they respect and love you? Do you LOVE to be with them?

Mama Kia had a special gift of loving her children, and you can see how special she was to them (she died in 2010…another trauma for these precious children). In contrast, this is what I see a lot, here in our Childhood Culture of Plenty. Tantrums–even in teens, but in more socially acceptable means (we cultivate and expect that, you know, with our lingo of “terrible two’s” and “ugh, tEEnagers…”). I also see an expectation of getting served, or of getting rewarded for…I dunno…just breathing air… A disgust and mistrust for the old ways, authority, or elders. Moaning and groaning over schoolwork, chores, or over any sort of parameters on media consumption, driving privileges or dating. An ease in throwing things away (including relationships), and then “just getting a new one”  (including relationships). An expectation of respect, but without the humility or winsomeness that naturally draws it. Children drowning in information from all kinds of sources, but without Godly wisdom.

Does it really have to be that way? Do we all, including our children, have to be in dire straits before the ugliness of sin and the beauty of the world collide to break our hearts? All of this sorrow ought to bring us to repentance, for we have all sinned, and then evoke gratitude and praises to the Lord for His mercy, kindness, and love. THAT is when we will overflow with His character traits to the world. THAT is out of how we love and nurture our children, and learn to trust and depend upon the God of the whole universe, the God who was, and is, and is to come. THAT is how we heal and heal others. But, alas, though many have needs, not many are willing to become servants. Mama Kia was just one person willing to pour her life and what she knew of love into dozens of children. Can’t I as a mother of (only?) eight do the same?

This is what I’m thinking. I get that I don’t live in a home with many people helping–I don’t have a cook, an educator, a housekeeper, or someone to run my farm. It is all on me. But it bothers me that my own children know I am a herbalist but can’t tell parsley from cilantro, much less which herb to use to treat a cough with. They know that “Christmas is not about getting presents”, but they won’t be as excited on the count down to Easter. And even though we don’t have TV, they still ask a billion times a day for media time and I have to make them go outside to play. And no one is excited about weeding or pulling up carrots. Like many of you, I have picky eaters, and I have siblings that will pick at each other as well. And they all, too, live in a culture where a trip to Disneyland is considered one of the most important rites of childhood on the planet. We here are knee deep in a world that breathes the toxic fumes of materialism and selfishness. We ought to be more on our knees in prayer, especially for the children. Our children.

In considering all of these things, I think “rescuing childhood” is not just about keeping our children well fed, educated, clothed and sheltered. It’s also about passing along our country’s heritage and our family’s faith, and teaching them how to live softly in the world, being good and thoughtful stewards. They should know how to craft something, whether it is carving a canoe or binding a book or weaving a caned chair, so they can serve and bless others. They should know how to grow and chop up vegetables, cook them, and eat them with thankfulness with the others they serve up a meal to in Godly hospitality. They ought to recognize the birds around their home, know how to read the Bible (the adult version), speak a second language, and be able to write letters. These are not things tested on the annual standarized exams, but they breathe life.

How are your kids doing? I don’t know about you, but I still have a lot of work to do. Chopping more carrots with my children may leave me with less time to blog and tell you about it, though. I know you’ll understand.

Why Not You?

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journal

 

I finished my art journal book for the year. It’s not the journal, per se, that I’m most pleased with, although I am. It’s the fact that despite my feelings of inadequacy, I just did it anyway. Sometimes it’s like that. You look at the things you’re curious about, or like, or want to learn, and you think, “Nah. Couldn’t do it. Can’t happen. Can’t afford it. Not good enough. Dumb idea. It’s gonna fail….” And if you weren’t loud enough in self-shaming or self-loathing, there are plenty of people in the world lined up to bring you or your silly dreams down. Because that’s their pleasure.

So here I am. I’m actually doing it. The thing called art journaling. With markers. Paint. Drawings. Paper and stickers and doodles and words. Washi tape and even bits of fiber and fabric tucked in here and there. I’m loving it. And I’m loving writing and podcasting to you. And walking. And so many other things. Thankfully, I’ve learned to shrug off naysayers.

You know those people who don’t get it?  They can’t understand why in the world you would want to (paint…homeschool…have eight children…ride a motorcycle….skeet shoot…plaster the walls…you fill in the blank). And then when you sit down to (write…weave…start a business…sign up for a pottery class…buy a kayak…) their discouraging faces swell large in your mind.

*Shrug* them away, because you know what? Those authors you love to read? They wrote *anyway*. Those bloggers you love to get inspiration from? They blogged *anyway*. Those art pieces or interior designs that make you swoon? Those artists art-ed *anyway*. Because everyone–and I mean everyone–deals with discouragement from within and without.

As you are setting goals this year, whether it is to keep an art journal or to learn 14 varieties of pickles to make, acknowledge your feelings but daily show up and do the practice *anyway*. You may have to learn to do some shrugging, too, or more careful sharing. And you know that fifteen minutes a day to practice your craft is not unreasonable or impossible (preaching to myself, too!).

That aside, here are some pics from this year’s journal. If you’d like to see year one, click here.

 

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This is the last page. The first page of my journal is where I put my goals for the year, so I could see them and remind myself of them all year. Some are let go during the year, but I can *see* the ones I DO want to accomplish every time I open my journal.

 

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This is a collage of stamps from the Samaritan Ministries letters and checks we received to pay for Poppy’s birth and hospital care. If I had kept every stamp, it would have taken up four journal pages. I love the body of Christ!

 

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This is a collage of scraps from my old journals. It’s so neat to see little pieces of my handwriting at 12 or 17, or paper I remember. Old journals can be recycled in many ways.

 

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Sometimes it’s good to talk to the 9 year old in you.

 

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An art journal is where I can try different art materials, and bring something visual to a Bible verse I’m thinking about.

 

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Sometimes my pages are set up for a little bit of art every day, like a calendar. Sometimes I get too busy for that, or I just want to remember one thing for the week.

 

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Drawing helps me to think about what I want to write about next.

 

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I loved this page. This gal has enough sense to wear an apron, but she still has spunk 🙂

 

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Sometimes I like to draw from my childhood memories.

 

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You know those great quotes you sometimes come across? They fit kind of nice in an art journal.

 

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Loved doing this page! From meditating on what God’s voice could possibly *sound* like.

 

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Here, I was thinking of friendships, and how blessed I’ve been with them over my lifetime.

 

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An art journal is where you can learn more about what you love! Or remember sweet experiences. Or take notes or save quotes.

 

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You can even just highlight a single new word or phrase.

 

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Or just glue in scraps of paper you like.

 

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You could write of course, but it doesn’t have to be in straight lines!

 

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If you really feel stuck, you could read a book or take a class and do, you know, “homework.” Check out your local library, too!

 

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You could put in pictures.

 

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Or envelopes. With hopes and dreams tucked in them.

 

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You could make your to-do list into single-word containers on a pretty shelf.

 

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Or stamp in a baby foot, a child’s hand, or a puppy’s paw.

 

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It’s ok if you “don’t know how to draw”. I don’t either. Remember? Do it *anyway*. Shrug the naysayers. And trace a coloring book for an outline and then just fill it in 🙂

 

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I love this page. I want a slow, deliberate, turtle-ish life. But life and culture swirl around me like it’s mad. And, I guess, sometimes it is.

 

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What’s next for my creative side? More art journaling to be sure; it’s a habit now. But check out what just arrived in my home! It’s an 8 harness Macomber loom with (shrieks of joy!) PURPLE harnesses! I sold a piece of furniture, and my sweet husband worked overtime to meet the bill for a very lovely woman who decided to sell this loom to me, practically for peanuts. Peanuts was all I could afford!

 

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I cannot tell you how thrilled I am! Weaving was just one more thing I had to give up to downsize. I had to shove the furniture around (AGAIN) to make some room, but it was a very happy sort of shoving around!

 

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I expect my Instagram will be filled with photos of my progress. I’m liking the quick upload there. This post–and I am not kidding–has taken me almost three hours!

 

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Blessings to you on your new and continuing endeavors! Shrug off those doubts and get going. Why not you?

On Showing Up (and a back story of the book, Present)

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riverwalk

On my walk across the river for my Audio Log

Pen twirling in my fingers. Eyes staring through the window, watching the jays hop from cedar to cedar. They’re squawking. I’m waiting.

I’ve learned to just “show up” for a time of writing. I wish I had some pin-worthy pithy and inspiring quotation pasted to my desk that would make it easier for me to sit down and write, something utterly compelling and so full of yes and amen or for all practical purposes demanding in its insistence that I scribble out some ink. But, no. I come to the desk, obedient to routine, and wait. I have to. I’m a writer. And writers who don’t write are…ahhh…a wee grumpy.

Almost everything I write comes from a scratchy journal entry, and it was pleasurable to recently come across the initial notes for my book, Present. Writing a “real life book” has been a dream of mine since childhood. This one sort of tumbled out of my soul. I didn’t expect it. I had just “showed up” with the pen in hand. Here are some of the notes from March of 2013:

Maybe I’ve been given an idea for a book. Title-ish: Present At Home, Finding a Life…)
How to Live a Real Life Outside of the Computer

my story–online chat room with long distant friend
good: wtg/audience/blogging
bad: relationships

my vision (and how to find yours)
peace with yourself and focus on your real life; integrity, honesty, courage

forgive, forget, forgo
let the past go
time management (decide on online time)

10 ways to cultivate a real life:
seek God (holy longings)
read real books and savor them
make some new friends
revive old interests
spend time outside
consider your living space/redecorate/paint
write it out (journals, letters, etc)
invest in people
experience something new
do nothing (solitude, quietness, saying no)

stretch your time, stretch your life, how to manage your online time before it pushes you around

Ten days later, I wrote…

I’m really liking my book idea…I think I can do this. Am I really saying this? Why do I think I can do this?!!….

Goats are bellowing for feeding time. Pretty soon it will be my children adding to the chorus so I better get myself up and going…

Writing that book and seeing it published was–and is–so sweet. So many of you are reconnecting with old friends, or powering down the cell phone before coming home, or blowing the dust off your scrapbooking supplies. You all inspire me, too.

All of those old interests are waiting for you. All of those dusty boxes in the attic are calling you. You used to love drawing. You used to love the feel of the wind in your hair as your rode your bicycle. You used to hold hands more with your honey. Or, maybe, like me, you wrote and wrote and wrote.

I don’t know all that comes from the longing and effort to live life more deliberately, because I am still in that struggle to do so. I fall a lot, but every day it’s just a little step forward. Every day I see a little bit better.

Recently, I looked for a couple of my favorite bloggers. Both have left the internet, both sites deactivated. I know why. In order for them to “show up” for their Real Lives, they had to let go of that which was draining it. I’ve been there. Some days, I think I am there again. Plus, oddities of electrical whatevers are plaguing my hands when I am on the computer lately. Maybe it’s a sign of things to come.

You could tease out those old childhood dreams, too. All you really need to do is just show up for those things you are wanting to cultivate. And stop showing up for the things you don’t.

Blessings,

Death of a Pet

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Lucy

 

Well, my cat died yesterday evening and I’ve been a big cranky mess all day. Lucy was the sweetest kitty I ever had or knew. She was the only cat that would let anyone flip her over and stroke her belly, and she was there for the arrival of many of our babies. She survived many toddlerhoods around here, too. She never bit at or thrashed about when these small people tried to “pet” her head a little too strongly or pull her tail. Instead, she would quickly withdraw and retreat into my room, her safe place away from children, noise, and even other adults. We bonded over our shared introvert personalities.

 

I picked her up at a rescue center when she was three. She was thin and recovering from surgery after a bad bout of mastitis. I remember looking at all of the kitties there and immediately was drawn to this shy calico. I told the woman in charge that I’d like to take Lucy home. She took one look at my cart full of four children aged 6 and under and said, “Well…maybe…” I promised to keep her safe. I promised to keep her indoors. I told her of our experience with cats. She must have known that I had bonded to the cat already and relented.

 

Lucy was a love. I miss her purr. She caught the one and only mouse I ever saw in my house, and she was good about staying off of my counters and table tops. She liked to nestle on my feet, and every time I tried to move her off she became Liquid Kitty.

 

It was sad to see her decline so fast, to stop eating and lose bowel function. She waited until we arrived home from our day out, and then we just knew she was going. We sat around her by the woodstove, stroking her fur and telling her what a good kitty she had been and that everything was going to be all right. We watched her breathe her last few breaths. And then she was gone.

 

I hated wrapping her up, and putting her in a box. It was just wrong. I kept stroking her cooling ear. And I remember thinking how much I hate death, and how I hate the stupid “circle of life” nonsense, like death is “just a part of life” and so on. Like it’s a light thing, “dignified” even, to “return to the earth”. No, no it’s not. But I guess making up stuff or lying about death is all people have when they have no hope.

 

Romans 8:22   For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now.

 

Even the animals know that death is the enemy, that it is a result of the fall of man and that everything unraveled from God’s perfect creation because of it. It’s so ridiculously obvious that everything is in a state of decay, of decline, and that death is a sorrowful thing, a thing to grieve. So, no, I don’t “celebrate life” when death comes. I grieve the loss, even if my memories are full of happiness, treasure and love. I don’t want a party when I bury a pet or a person I love. I want to cry and be angry and stomp my feet and call out to Jesus, please, please, Lord, come, and put death away forever and ever amen.

 

I have no doubt that God can bring my Lucy to me when I get to heaven. I’m thankful for the 13 years she had here, but it just feels a little bit empty around here now. It was hard to wash and put away her dishes and it’s hard to see the empty spot where she used to sleep. I’m looking ever more forward to going Home as I get older and I thank God (who cares for even the sparrows that fall) that He has my place secured and waiting.

 

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As an aside, if you’re subscribed to my RSS feed and got a weird email today with tons of old blog links, I’m sorry. Some things are still a bit wonky from the website change.

Blessings (and sadly),

Turning the Tassel on a Slow Schooler

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Happy Home Podcast 054 - home school graduation

I know. You’re in the thick of it. All of the plans you spent so much time on in July and August to plot your child’s homeschooling…and here we are at the start of Advent and maybe you’re *behind* already. Maybe you’re thinking of this as you cut out white squares for snowflake cutting. Maybe, you think, they need to *earn* the snowflake craft by “catching up” on things thus far undone. Snip, snip. Do you feel like a homeschool failure? Like you have to decide between letting your kids be kids OR getting them ready “for the real world”?

It’s going to be all right. Really. Let them cut snowflakes. Keep reading to your young ones, keep your olders moving onto the next thing, and little by little, they (and you!) will somehow learn stuff. A lot of stuff. And then, almost suddenly, they will be 16, 18, 22…and you’ll realize that they’re ready to plan and plot their own educational endeavors and lives. That, even with your plans perhaps only half-done.

This happens even if you only get a half of a page of math done today because, well, your child wanted to cut out a billion snowflakes for the windows instead. And maybe you haven’t gotten around to phonics yet because you were too busy reading Dr. Seuss or Piggy and Gerald (over and over and over…). But you know what? You are building character. You are cultivating a wonderful relationship. You are TEACHING them more than can ever fit onto any transcript.

One of the best parts of slow schooling is ENJOYING your children while you all endeavor to learn about geometry or botany or Abraham Lincoln. You are teaching them *how* to learn, so that they will, hopefully, love to learn. And a homeschool graduate that still loves to read is far better than a graduate that read every “classic” book assigned but in the end threw away the library card for good.

Listen in as we discuss our first homeschool graduate. I know! Like we’re *experts* now, right?! No, not experts. But living in integrity with what we believe, that learning is a process, that learning is a joy, and that even in homeschooling, we are all still learning until the day we die.

Soon enough, we’ll be cutting snowflakes for the windows at our house. They’re going to be beautiful.

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Blessings,

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On Screens and Choice

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This is a part of a series of thoughts for my next book, Slow Schooling…And Other Thoughts on Rescuing Childhood

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The very uncomfortable realization of an overconsumption of media leads to equally uncomfortable choices ahead. If your media fast was fruitful, you may find some areas rather easy to decline the use of, say, an app that you rarely use anyway. But what if you use everything, and therein lies the problem?

One choice is of course to do nothing different or difficult at all. It is to keep to the comfort of the addiction and stay plugged into the machine(s). It is, after all, why psychotropic drugs and abusers are so powerful. We tend to want–to need–to stay where it is familiar. That tends to be compounded when we are surrounded by others who have a stake in keeping us there. The consequences of change seem too insurmountable, too frightening.

The other option is to reboot your life and find other things to do. My book, Present, details many of the things I did during the time I killed off my very addictive blogging habit. It was a good exercise, and many things were set aright during that time. I ended up returning to the blogging world (obviously), but knowing I could do without it gave me a real sense of control and peace.

It’s helpful to make lists when choosing the reboot. Lists of things like:

* what I want to learn
* experiences I want to have
* places I wish to visit
* on the bucket list
* stuff I loved to do when I was a kid
* goals for personal or professional growth

That way, when your mind feels blank and your options seem bleak, you can go to your list and pick at projects or pursuits, or take the time to make plans.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to go hiking…think I’ll head to the store and try on some boots…”

“I think I’ll check out that scythe-making class at the farm in the next county…”

“I’m finally going to read those business books every leader I respect keeps recommending…”

“The kitchen WILL be purged!”

Your kids can make the same kinds of lists. They can check out books from the library and teach themselves how to knit. They can procure scrap and build go-carts to race down the neighbor hills (maybe that will get the other kids outside!). They could bike to the corner store for ice cream, whittle a bowl from a chunk of wood, or get ahead in their Algebra.

Yes, the raging river of the internet will continue on by without you or your child. Yes, you’ll miss what’s trending or the freshest blog posts from your favorite writers. But you may discover the sound of oars in the water, make progress on your life’s goals, and create something that your heart and mind–your soul–can begin to grab and say a wholehearted “YES” to. You may end up finding out that a Real Life apart from the distraction of incessant media is far more addicting and satisfying.

Ultimately, if you desire your children to know the screen as a tool and not as a master, you must lead in this area. Are you willing?

On Screens and Health

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This is a part of a series of thoughts for my next book, Slow Schooling…And Other Thoughts on Rescuing Childhood

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This seems a bit fruitless to discuss years of life watching the tube. After all, we probably spend a year just looking for stuff we’ve lost and another six months waiting at traffic lights. So what?

There are other issues with regards to screens and children that are probably just as important as the time spent. For example, the effects of electronics, magnetics and radio-frequency fields on a child’s health has been fairly ignored, even though many people are beginning to question the FCC and FDA regulations on such things. The FCC, for one, has not levied a single fine against a wireless carrier for exceeding the radiation limits and although some doctors have been warning about the dangers of cell phone usage, its use amongst young children continues to rise. So do the rates of cancer. But are screens the cause of that? The arguments for both sides seem strong, but in reality the amount of research–and the funds and the desire for it–is slim. I suppose that leaves it open for considering whether or not we want our children to be the guinea pigs.

Short-term memory is already on the wane with too much media use. This, coupled with the very real danger of distracted driving …well, none of it seems to be cultivating a healthy lifestyle.

The pull of the screen is magnetic. One option is to limit screen time. Of course, this is pointless if it isn’t modeled. Certain hours of the day, certain days of the week, even certain weeks of the year…they can all be part of Net Nap times. The phone, the computer, the tablets: simply power them down. Powering them down when visiting with other people is simply good manners, and helps to focus on the person in person, undistracted.

I admit it’s a little uncomfortable at first, when the screen goes black. You end up holding or looking at something that is just metal and glass. It’s lifeless. It is a wonder just to take a moment and consider: this is the thing that has captivated you and your child. This THING. Notice how it feels to go without it for a time, even five minutes. Do your fingers not itch for a swipe? Do you not hear your notification ring tones–even though your phone is turned off? How long is it before your brain, and dare I say, your heart, hungers–perhaps angrily–for a hit?

It feels perhaps more intense for your child. The child may have fits! You may rationally understand the reasons behind the black out. All your child may know is that you stole his blankie from him. What a perfect opportunity to point out the potential addiction, the dangers. There are two roads at this point…

…more to come…

 

Graduating a Slow Schooler

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GraduatingASlowSchooler

As I look out my sweaty single-paned windows, the sky is gray, tinged with coral. The school bus is due to pass by my front door in twenty minutes. I’m up, showered and dressed, and with the baby. The rest of the house is quiet. Seven other children are either sleeping or still lounging in their beds, stretching under fluffy comforters or doing their own reading. What’s *not* happening is a full-blown rush to get everyone dressed, everyone fed, everyone’s books in order, and everyone out the door. That only happens on Sundays 😉

My eldest is turning 18. She recently asked how much more schooling she would need to do before she graduated. My mind flew to all of the subjects and curriculums that were incomplete or unattempted. I thought about all of the things I still wanted her to learn. Like Latin. Like French. I thought about creating her perfect transcript, even though she has no intention at the moment to attend college (shock and awe, I know…I’ll give you a moment…). But when I consider the point of education,  I had to admit, she was ready to be on her own Life Pursuits.

What IS the point of education? To me, it is to be equipped and ready for LIFE. It means having had enough experiences and learning that my child is able to not only read on a wide level of topics, but to write well in order to communicate, and to have enough math skills to do the basics of everyday living. It means that my child knows how–no, WANTS TO–keep learning as a lifelong pursuit. It means my child has shown the character needed, the maturity, to respectfully interact with people of all kinds. It means my child knows the gospel, and continues to witness how a relationship with God plays out in real life.

I’m afraid none of that would have happened if I treated my homeschool as the destination of that yellow school bus. I know, because I, too, was an elementary school teacher, a project leader, a Language Arts consultant. I was well embedded in that system and know it well. And I knew it wasn’t the best for my children.

I’m not even talking about the subjects taught, although the slide away from focusing on reading, writing, and ‘rithmetic has become more like tobogganing down an avalanche into an unknown abyss. I’m talking about running a child’s life like a machine, where every 45 minutes a bell goes off and *beep* turn off your Spanish Two mind and *beep* turn on your Algebra mind and *beep* whoops there’s a fire drill and *beep* Turn your books to page 42…. All the while dealing with peer pressure, a lack of discipline, and trays of factory produced pizza and chocolate milk.

There goes the bus…

So, when my daughter asked about graduation, I had to consider this. I decided to have her go through a test preparation book, so that we could see where, if any, of the holes were. Not surprisingly, she needed a little help in her math. Four months later of working with her dad on problems, she finished it with a flourish. So the cap and gown has been purchased, the cake ordered, the diploma printed.

What did she learn? I don’t know all of it…that’s the thing with slow schooling; children end up teaching themselves far more subjects than planned, expected or tested. But here is a little list of things I can remember:

English: grammar, spelling, composition, and a wide range of literature

public speaking

maths of all kinds

sciences, everything from general science to botany to astronomy to vet medicine

Bible, memory work

homemaking: gardening, baking, laundry, food preserving, diapers, cleaning

history: American, world, church

music: violin, flute, viola, piano

art of all kinds

milking dairy goats, driving a stick shift

archery, rabbitry, hospitality and ministry

basket weaving, rug making, knitting, sewing (tailoring, actually)

Ultimately, what matters most are not the things that can be put on a transcript. What matters most is the character that comes from loving God. What we have now is a beautiful, young lady not only well-rounded in her education, but someone who is mature, eager to keep learning, and ready to embrace life with her own goals and dreams. She is a sweet daughter, a good friend to others, kind, compassionate, funny, and polite.

Are you operating out of the fear that doing something out of the cultural norm will hinder your children? Well, maybe doing something outside of the norm will save your children. I suppose only time will tell for us–this is our first graduate–but as sleepy footsteps now tenderly move through the house, I can honestly say I have no regrets. And I am proud of the adult my daughter has become.

Blessings,

The Daily Infusion

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We recently watched the moon blush its salmon shades while we enjoyed pumpkin soup and cornbread with neighbors. I remember reflecting upon the last time I witnessed such a lunar event: we were in the Big House, and I was in the moonlit barn awaiting a goat kid to come into the world. Appropriately, I named the doeling Luna.

 

It feels like a hundred years ago, a different lifetime. Because now I am here in my small cottage home, with new friends and soup mugs cupped into full hands, but the barns are empty and my milkcans are gathering dust from some forgotten place in the garage. How things change from one moon to another.

 

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I’m not sure how I feel about it. Sometimes I am happy, usually when the fire is roaring in the woodstove, the sourdough bread is baking, and the children are all working on their schoolwork or Legos or attitudes. But sometimes I am simply just moving forward, as through mud. The seasons are unfamiliar to me now. Spring was a time of drowning in milk and cheese. Autumn was a time of preparing farm and fields for winter. Now…what? It is simply a time of waiting. As between moons.

 

Last week, I managed to get the soil turned over, and the rows hoed, and the fava beans planted. With every pick I thought of Jackie Clay, of starting over, of her admonitions to just do what I could, to move forward. Even if it’s an hour a day. Even if it’s a few feet at a time. Even if it’s through mud. One woman to another, cheering me on. I believe her when she says I am strong enough.

 

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I have hopes. I have plans. I want to plant all the herbs I left in my Big House garden, and more. I want to have a ridiculous amount of culinary and medicinal herbs growing so that I can be ridiculously generous. I think, maybe someday I’ll teach my herb classes from my own garden. Maybe someday I’ll have my own garden. Even so, today, I can at least make soup. Invite neighbors. Appreciate the night sky.

 

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I was thinking of these things today as I was making my daily infusion. An infusion is, basically, extracting the properties of herbs into whatever you like, in this case, boiling water. I find it sort of meditative (thus combining round moons and round pumpkins and round cupped hands and mugs…). The daily infusion is one thing that gets me through the day. My current favorite is a combination of nettle (strengthening), oatstraw (calming), and red clover (sweet…as in I need to BE sweet). Sometimes I add a bit of hawthorn if my heart feels sick, or a touch of rose if I need a hug. I let it all steep until the jar is the temperature I like, and then strain. I like to add a little lavender honey, and drink it throughout the morning in between spelling tests and vacuuming and nursing.

 

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I have other “daily infusions”, too. Like my Bible study, making my bed, a daily walk. I enjoy pulling a letter or two from the mailbox, and reading funny little stories to my toddlers. It’s not so bad, the waiting times. Little daily infusions stir up courage and grace….and every now and then it’s uplifting to watch the moon with friends, too.

 

Blessings,

On Using Planners for Slow School

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It’s nice to *meet* all of my new readers who came to peek in on our Slow School. Welcome :). But, I have to admit I was a bit befuddled by all of the attention. Are you all just homeschool-exhausted? If so, I think it is good to think of the end in mind. Finish this sentence: we are schooling our children BECAUSE (fill in the blank) SO THAT (fill in the blank).

 

After that little exercise, it may be good to challenge what “the end in mind” that you were thinking of was. Is the point to raise kids to have ginormous IQs, a lot of letters after their names, or the ability and desire to earn a bunch of money? SO THAT they can…pay a mortgage, take part in a consumer culture, take the grandkids to Europe, buy all the latest technological gadgets (which, of course, means buying something new every 6 months)?

 

Or, is the point to raise kids to let them bloom into *whatever* without any sort of direction or, dare I say, hinderance, from the adults in their lives? SO THAT they can–we think–avoid conflict…but then expect the world to revolve around their every want or need, and live life in a perpetual state of being offended when that worldview collides with, well, other people? Have you seen drivers on the road each vying for ownership, lately? Or read the snarky comments online and heard them in the real world? Or watched parents who didn’t want to dampen their child’s spirit and so did somersaults in order to cater to their child’s every whim?

 

But if the end in mind was something akin to “glorifying and enjoying God”, then the focus becomes more about making sure they know the gospel, praying for their salvation, and then in cultivating the character they will need to do the good work, whether it be as a lawyer or librarian or lollipop-maker. Wanting our children to grow up to be faithful, responsible adults who can support themselves and/or a family is a noble endeavor, but I’m not sure we’re seeing a culture of young adults epitomizing what that looks like right now. Even though they have college degrees. Even though they got to do any activity they wanted. The academics and the activities don’t make the adult. Overworking our kids or hands-off parenting doesn’t make the adult either. The work of Christ does.

 

As parents, we are to teach our children, but we are to train them up, too. What are we “training” them FOR? To be stressed out because they can’t finish a math lesson, or because they can’t read yet, or because their handwriting is atrocious? Is there nothing more important than good grades, extracurricular activities, and being up on the latest i-Whatever? I’m not saying that academics aren’t important, but I’m not sure it is *The Most Important Thing Ever*.

 

As important as it is to work on educational pursuits, I think it’s just as important to work on homemaking, homesteading, and home-doing-nothing. As in, letting your mind think on things. As in, actually savoring and tasting the food without gulping it down to race to the next thing. As in, holding a mug of whatever and just watching the birds. Or letting your kids just play with Legos even though it’s a “school day” (and, who defines what a “school day” is, anyway?). If Jesus is the Good Shepherd (John 10:14), if He is gently leading (please get that: GENTLY…..LEEEEEEADING….) even those of us with young (Isa 40:11), then why do we feel the need or prodding to PUSH our young ones as if their lives won’t be meaningful if they don’t complete this textbook or take trigonometry or finish a few years of Spanish…

 

Pushing and leading are two different things, methinks.Which gets us (finally) to the use of planners. I think planners are great to use in leading our children to learn to set goals and to reach for them. It gives a great opportunity to teach the limitations of time, to prioritize, to see if there is a good balance in their desire for work and play. It keeps them (and us) accountable. We can see if they never seem to get around to their spelling lesson or if they need to be taught how to use a dictionary or atlas or commentary.

 

Sometimes, I wonder what our children would say if WE kept planners. Probably something like, “Um…Mom…this all looks great…but when are you gonna play?”

 

planner3

 

My kids start planners as soon as they’re able, even if I have to write their dictation. It’s rather simple.

 

Me: “So…what are you planning to do today?”

Child: “I want to play Legos.”

Me: “Oh? Are you working on a project?”

Child: “I’m making a garbage truck.”

Me: “Cool. Let’s write down ‘Legos’. Is it going have the lifting Dumpster so that the cans can go in easily?”

Child: (blank)…”I don’t know how….”

Me: “Well, lucky for you, we have a book! It shows all the parts of a garbage truck! Let’s have a look at that after we finish your plans for the day…”

 

And suddenly we’re getting into levers and all sorts of things. I think smart people call that physics.

 

Some common complaints I’ve heard in my house regarding planners, which may or may not have come from my 9yo boy:

 

“How many things do I have to have?”

Answer: “Well, you’ve got time now before lunch time, and then again for a bit before supper…what is it you’re hoping to do? Some things take longer, and some things take shorter times. Let me help you decide what will be good for today…”

 

“Can I just keep them in my head?”

Answer: “Oh, I wish, honey. But you know how it goes. We make all these ideas in our heads and then we get into something and *POOF* we forget that we were supposed to take out the garbage cans today! And then we have stinky diapers for another whoooooole week before the garbage truck comes around and ewwwww we don’t want that. So, no, let’s just write it down. It’ll be great to cross them off with our pencils like Zorro sword swipes!” (proceed explaining who that is….)

 

“But I don’t have my planner notebook.”

Answer: “Arghhhh….it’s gone into that mire called ‘Not-In-The-Proper-Place’! So sorry, honey. In the meantime, aren’t we blessed to have a drawer full of scratch paper?”

 

And so on…

 

planner2

 

You don’t need a special planner, but I understand that a nice one is pleasant to have on occasion. I do like the quality of this one: the Ultimate Daily Planner for Students, but truthfully I will probably just save my money and use plain paper when they’re finished with.

 

Here are some examples of recent plans (for one day):

 

9yo

finish Lego project
bike ride to library
drama class
page of math
SMF (memory work)

11yo

page of math
study flashcards
SMF (memory work)
Bible study
read 2 pages of science book
read chapter of history
bike ride to library
sewing
write a letter
read to Ruby

13yo

take notes for report
write a letter
drama class
read for 30 minutes
Bible study
one math lesson

15yo

one lesson of math
start rough draft of report
practice music
replace the septic cap
go to library

17yo

SMF (memory work)
rough draft of report
music lesson
clean the bathroom
laundry
tidy desk area
go to library

 

For my teens, we fill out their high school transcripts according to what their goals are, and then just “do the next thing” as they finish a class towards that end. That’s why I don’t necessarily schedule it all. We just plug along, and get it done when it’s done, whatever their age. For example, they may finish their history study, but only be halfway through algebra. It’s all right; that’s one of the beauties of homeschooling. I let them go fishing between algorithms 🙂

I hope that was helpful to you. May your days be full of learning and loving and following the leading of our perfect Good Shepherd…who I can’t imagine ever telling a child to hurry and grow up already.

 

Blessings,

Slow School

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homeschooling

 

While I was pregnant last fall, I had a woman ask about the number of children I had, and my age. I told her (smile). She shook her head when she inquired about homeschooling, proceeded to lament her teen son’s apparent lack of educational ambitions, and then said, and I quote, “If I were pregnant again you’d have to take me out to the woods and shoot me!”

 

Well. That’s sad, on a whole lot of levels.

 

I wonder if sometimes having any children at all is just a matter of having something to check off on the list of life. Then we push them to grow up as fast as possible so that we can get to doing whatever it is we want to be doing instead of being with our babies. Or maybe we keep them home and homeschool but then we still push them to finish the textbook within an allotted time-frame so that we can get them to the next one this September so that they could hurry up and graduate and go to the proper college to get the job that will, again, allow us to get to doing whatever it is we want to be doing instead. (You can ask your kid to diagram that last sentence. You’re welcome.)

 

How come just being with these little people isn’t enough?

 

I guess I’m wondering what the point is. Is the point just to have children, get them educated, and then…whatever….? What’s the rush? And what’s wrong with a 40-something year old woman having (a)nother baby? (Or does that only work if I put in 20 years into another career first?)

 

I’m wondering why learning can’t just be another aspect of living. Like eating. Can you imagine finishing up a good lunch, and before your lips swipe the napkin already fretting about the next meal, when it will be, how much time it might take, if the ingredients are all there, and *what if* it doesn’t assuage your hunger? But there we are as homeschoolers, already plotting and planning the curriculum for the next umpteen years even as our babies are just learning to read, fretting about *what if* we mess up their lives by choosing the wrong math book.

 

Are you struggling with this? I don’t have a website or book or method to recommend. You might laugh at what I recommend, and it is this: relax, already. As in, just park for a few minutes a day and read a book to your child without wondering if it’s on the list of must-reads in order for your 8-year-old to set sail for AP English later on. Because, frankly, your child might not want to go to college. Your child might want to run a landscaping business because he likes the outdoors. Or maybe swing a hammer. Or be a farmer. You do like pretty parks, right? You like living in a house? You like eating? Someone had to plant the plants, build the house, grow the food. Why not let your child bloom into his or her own interests?

 

Too many times, too many years, we press them into our own educational biases before we give them a chance to learn about what they’re interested in. Or we drag them to this and that when they just want to stay home or go fishing.

 

Many people ask about our homeschool, and I guess I’ve hesitated in sharing because it can be a contentious subject. But I think I’ve outgrown the comparison dance and my skin’s grown thick enough to withstand the withering opinions of others. We do other things than just “schoolwork”. We play. We play music. We do chores, bake, and take care of chickens. We ride bikes, play with Legos (a lot), and keep the sewing machines humming. Sometimes we act in theater productions, sometimes we dissect frogs with friends, and we are constantly putting books on hold from the library. And reading them. In other words, we just live life. And, somehow, perhaps miraculously, they learn stuff. And I have the test results to prove it 😉

 

I’ve dabbled in many different schooling methods over the years (my eldest is now 17 1/2). First of course was the school-at-home method, because that is what I knew both from being a graduate of AND an educator in the public school system. That was insanely stressful, because everything else in our lives rotated around the schoolwork. I wanted learning to be in every part of our lives, not just from this hour to that one. Recently, maybe it was the downsize, maybe it was the massive decluttering of not just stuff but of our lives, but I like where our homeschool is nowadays. It is, for lack of a better word, relaxed. Comfortable. Easy-going, and yet very productive and fun. It feels right. It is furthering one of my Big Goals: raising kids who not only know *how* to learn but *want* to learn. That will fit them for life rather well, I think.

 

Each of my kids has a planner. I ask them at the beginning of the day what they are *planning* to do that day. It’s a good way to check on chores (laundry day, for example), and I can also keep them moving along with whatever subject (“let’s see a couple of math pages done today”). Just the act of writing down their *plans* means that it is all more likely to get done. They’re aware of the day and their goals, and it keeps them on track. I also like that it puts the onus of learning on THEM. What I say around here is that it is MY responsibility to provide materials and to teach, but it is THEIR responsibility to learn. Furthermore, once a kid gets an idea they’re excited about (“I want to work for NASA!”), then the planner is a slam dunk: “Ok, then, let’s look at what their requirements are…oh, you need a degree in something like mathematics…which means, you’ll need to take these classes…”. Then, when we’re dealing with an unmotivated slug, I can shrug and say, “That’s ok…it just means it will take you longer to get to NASA…and do your math anyway…”

 

We try to get some homeschooling done every day, all year round. I could say, not including weekends, but that would be false, because my kids love to read and learn and I’m not about to ban them from books on certain days of the week. Like I said, it’s just living. Like eating. We eat on weekends, too.

 

So I guess my method right now is “slow school”. I dunno if that’s trademarked yet, but you (maybe) heard it here first 🙂 Here are some things we do in our homeschool, and some ideas for you to consider. Every day is blessedly different, and I don’t fret if we do less on one day than another. It just sort of all works out and I’m not spending a bazillion hours anymore “planning”.

 

Ideas for Daily Slow School:

Bible: proverbs video, independent study (Kay Arthur’s materials or Studying God’s Word), Scripture Memory Fellowship…

Read aloud: lunch time (currently reading Swiss Family Robinson and The Fallacy Detective)…we will pull out unknown words and assign them for looking them up in that old-fashioned thing called a dictionary

WOD: (word of the day)…one word, discuss Latin/Greece roots, definition, etc.

sketch challenge

reading

math

spelling (we use Spell to Write and Read)

journaling

personal study on whatever topic (which is usually science or history related)

grammar/handwriting: read aloud passage, copy or dictate, check & rewrite as needed, Webster’s dictionary work, diagramming, project or report

animal husbandry

homemaking chores (why is learning how to do laundry less important than algebra?)

 

Ideas for Weekly Slow School:

research topic…we’ve been picking topics out of a box, researching and writing reports, and then presenting them to our family. If you ever want your kids to really learn something, have them try to teach it!

handwriting: write out memory verses, make grocery lists, etc.

math games

knowledge questions (5)….put up 5 trivia questions, such as “What is REM sleep?” or “How many teaspoons in a tablespoon?”

draw a topic out of a hat–talk on it immediately for one minute

write a letter

play board games….and turn off those screens

Handbook of Nature Study

science experiment/lab

art/craft

You know, you only have today. Yesterday is gone and tomorrow is just a wish. And children are a blessing, and that means even while they are at our feet…or in the womb. Enjoy them! And no, I’m not *announcing* anything 😉

Happy (and relaxed) learning!

The Waiting Time

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Our happiness or lack thereof is often nothing more than a manifestation of our expectations.

Ben Hewitt

 

The cursor blinks at me. I sift through the thoughts in my head and come up with nothing. If I let them settle, wandering thoughts float to the top but feel like chaff. And the heavy things tend to stay rooted, parts I don’t want to dig up anyway. My fingers stay poised, however, and I’m waiting.

 

dots

 

I was introduced to Ben Hewitt through a podcast on unschooling and found his lifestyle to be intriquing. No, not intriquing…compelling.  A lifestyle lived not in the pursuit of money but rather in the pursuit of meaning. Growing food, animal husbandry, children making bows from trees and with a knowledge base of herbal medicine that would shame me in five minutes flat. But my kids, my kids know Brain Pop. I just bought my dinner chicken from Azure Standard and my babies are now wearing disposable diapers (I know. But I sure got tired washing the cloth ones.) Ah, the whole comparison thing between what-I-want and what-I-lack…

 

On the other hand, I do use multiple sourdough starters and bake bread. I’m gathering soap supplies. My kids are learning Spanish and know how to write well. And I actually know how to butcher a hen. So it’s not like I’m not living aspects of the Real Life that I desire. It’s just that my desire, my expectation if you will, is the whole enchilada (grown from scratch from my own seeds in my own garden on my own land…).

 

Does anyone ever have the whole enchilada? Maybe. I don’t. I’m in the waiting time.

 

I’ve been studying through Jeremiah (I know. Still. It’s a long book!)  It’s hard not to find it depressing. Decades of warning, and finally the promised judgement comes and death and dispersement follows. And the comfort the captives get in Babylon is this (Jer 29:5): build a home, have children, plant a garden. In a crazy land full of pagans. Not that I’m comparing.

 

But this is not my house, so I can’t tear down a wall

(so light a candle, sew some curtains…)

But the world is so unstable, I worry about my grandchildren

(disciple them, love them….)

But I have no barn for animals, no real means of planting

(enjoy your rest, let Me provide…)

 

The cursor blinks. Go on, go on, go on….

 

What ARE my expectations for life? And–more importantly–are they right? Are they meaningful? Most importantly: are they based on Truth? I understand that my longing or dreaming for *whatever* is born out of many things. It is hard sometimes to find the balance though between “hoping for” and “accepting what is”. Do you ever struggle with that?

 

Perhaps the greatest comfort I have is that I’m already living forever, and that my place for eternity will very much feel like (finally!) home. I am thankful for the glimpses I am already privy to (baby giggles, warm eggs from the nest, hummingbirds at my window).

 

I suppose my greatest expectation is that God will finish, somehow, the work He’s begun in me. Knowing that He’s promised to do so is better happiness than any worldly expectation I could come up with. In the waiting time, that simple and yet profound time known as “the dash” (on the tombstone), my joy is full even as my worldly hopes are not.

 

It’s gonna be all right.

The Important Work

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blog

 

There’s a lull and it will be so for maybe 15 minutes if I am lucky. All I can hear is the drip-drip-drip from the kitchen faucet (on the list of fixes to do) and most of the children are playing outside while the sweet potatoes are roasting in the oven. Baby is finally sleeping and my left forearm and elbow are grateful for the break.

 

Hours ago I had a mind to do some writing. Hours ago I had a desire to watercolor in my journal. Instead I did the work of rocking, rocking, rocking while the rest of my family napped and played. My mood became gray, my lids heavy, but still I rocked.

 

Was this the important work? Just back and forth, back and forth?

 

The crockpot simmered. I eyed the herb books on my desk, various sticky notes and scraps of paper sticking out on all edges, waiting for more study. I noticed the green and plastic Easter grass trailing off the piano, the upside down laundry basket on the floor, the sofa pillows strewn. Still I rocked.

 

I managed to cradle a phone call to my mother while wrangling the fussy baby, and after finally putting the baby down to nap, decided to spill this out of my fingers.

 

But now my Ruby is screaming. Baby is already waking. Children have questions (six–no, seven–in the time I wrote this) and the woodstove needs stoking. I will leave now to tend to them all, finish and serve supper, and then eventually fall into bed.

 

I will read the psalms by flashlight, and I will know His peace, His heart, His comfort. He will not chide, shame or scold me, even for my gray mood. And because Jesus did His important work, I can continue to do mine. Mine involves rocking.

 

What’s your important work?

Down Syndrome and Happiness

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Ruby

 

I awaken to the sounds of purposeful thumping down the stairs and loud “AAAWK”s.

 

Ruby.

 

I overslept again. It’s easy to do. Once Ruby and my 2yo are in bed, it’s a quiet couple of hours of almost uninterrupted painting, chatting with my older children,or sewing. My eyes tend to wane before my will does, but I stay up even longer to hold a flashlight, reading into the night.

 

But she’s up now and the games have begun. She will be on the run until she’s in bed once again, and we will all be chasing her in the meantime. Sometimes she will need to be held tightly, against her will, because she wants to hit other people out of her own frustration. Sometimes she will decide the milk isn’t good and deliberately pour it onto the floor or throw the food she doesn’t want. She will scream when you say no to the knives, no to climbing up the gate, just no.

 

I will myself to get up. Ruby is yelling, waking the others. In my head, I hear how people with Down syndrome are so happy all the time.

 

Maybe in Ruby’s own mind, when she has access to knives and puts mud in her sister’s hair, maybe she IS happy. But this idea that just because you have an extra chromosome you’ve also inherited the happy gene is either a misstatement at best or an outright lie. It doesn’t do anybody any favors that all-out-cheeriness is expected at every waking hour.

 

I wonder why we do this. Why do we talk about the blessings of special needs children, of adoption, of large families, of homeschooling, of living in the country…but no one wants to give the other side of feeding tubes all night, the trauma of separation anxiety, financial struggles, learning disabilities and mud?

 

It’s sort of like inviting people to church. Come! We have programs, games, popcorn and potluck! Accept Jesus and all will be rosy!

It’s much harder to be truthful, to say, You’re invited, and we do have some pleasant things, but Jesus needs to accept YOU, and frankly, you’re unacceptable….your sins are filthy and you need to repent. Oh, and if and when you do, Jesus doesn’t promise you the best parking spaces everywhere you go. He promises persecution and trouble. BUT He’ll be with you, forgive you of all your sins and you’ll live forever in a place you’ll actually want to be in. Which–actually–makes the hardships and all of the pain worth it.

 

I’m combing Ruby’s hair. She’s grabbing at my hands, yelling “AAWK”. I get her to her chair, strap her in, and give her baked rhubarb-oatmeal and milk, which thankfully she can feed herself when she’s not throwing it to the walls. She giggles and gives me the biggest grin. Then she says, with actual words I can understand, a full and understandable and appropriate first time ever two-word sentence, “Thanks, Mom.”

 

Ruby is not happy all the time, but neither am I. But, together, we find joy in the little things, the little wins, and perhaps that is where the real blessings are after all.

How To Make a Happy Home When Home is Not What You Want

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Dear Friend,

 

You’ve been much on my mind since receiving this question via the Google search you embarked upon. I admit my initial response was confusion. How could anyone not want home? But as I pondered it further, I came to respect your honesty.

 

Especially in Christian circles, home is where we as wives and mothers are expected to be. After all, we all know the Titus 2 exhortation and some of us have even joined up with groups and studies to get the training and encouragement we need to do the home-thing well. But, knowing how to create menus, manage housekeeping chores, and plant a garden doesn’t mean that our hearts are in it. Sometimes our hearts are wistfully looking outside of the kitchen window, even while we diligently do dishes, dreaming of…I don’t know…something ELSE.

 

Maybe you left a blooming career. Maybe your dream of flying around the world has been put on hold. I don’t know. I do think it’s ok, however, to mourn whatever you had to kill in order to create life within the walls you have. It’s sort of like really wanting the flourless chocolate cake, but the waitress says they’re out and you could have the blueberry cobbler instead and so you do and it’s ok but it’s not the same is it?

 

Being home is not the same as doing the “else”.

 

But, maybe…maybe…it could be better.

 

The homemakers I know, here in America, have an incredible amount of freedom. They can manage their own time, prepare and eat what they like, wear whatever they wish, and learn whatever they want. Many homemakers have taken advantage of internet opportunities to form like-minded communities, participate in distance education, and earn money from home. They can create their own particular nest, and then change it up with paint or whatever Pinterest picture inspires. In other words, there is almost nothing that you can’t do from home. At home.

 

If we’re honest though, staying home can be horribly frustrating, provoking, or even boring at times. I know we’re not supposed to admit that, that somehow it fails to glorify God to say so, but it’s true. It reminds me of the woman who gushed all over my baby daughter with Down syndrome, about how much of a blessing she is. Well, yes, she is. But I already know it is going to be difficult, maddening, and gut-wretching, too. I’m going to have times of looking at her and wishing the Downs away.

 

Maybe you misunderstood: homemaking–like parenting–isn’t all happy all of the time. Maybe you feel a little guilty that you don’t have that sense that supposedly every other homemaker has.

 

I have a few thoughts on this.

 

One, what you’re lacking is not a fake Pollyanna attitude. You don’t need to “just buck up” or paste a fake smile on (although it IS true that smiling DOES turn on the happy hormones in your brain). Rather, maybe you *do* need some education on homekeeping, cleaning or meal preparation. Seek it out, get it. I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve read books on exactly how to clean my house, and I still don’t know how to properly fold fitted sheets. I’m actually ok with wadding them up! (Hmm…are you trying to live out someone else’s idea of what homemaking *ought* to look like?)

 

Or, two, if you’ve got that sort of nuts-and-bolts under control, what you’re lacking, and what you might need, is IMAGINATION.

 

What is it you want? A college degree? A weekly salary? A trip to Hawaii? Do you want to dress well, feel great, get more sunshine? Travel around the world?

 

Instead of waiting for college, could you begin borrowing books from the library and begin educating yourself? Instead of being an employee, could you be an entrepreneur? Instead of traveling to foreign places, could you cultivate relationships with pen pals from far and wide? Instead of  lounging in the tropical sun, could you take advantage of the rays you do have and take a strolling walk?

 

Why can’t you learn to bake brioche? Wear something pretty? Start an online or home business? Can you take some time to volunteer at the nursing home or humane society instead of nursing or practicing vet medicine? Or could you join a garden club or write your book or create your own spa in your own bathroom? Could you do some transcribing from home, paint a new color on your walls or decide to make nothing but Italian food for the month?

 

Within your home, you have the FREEDOM to pursue just about any interest you want! It is truly one of the blessings of homeschooling, by the way…your children can pursue their own interests as well.

 

Lastly, I almost hate to break it to you, but happiness doesn’t necessarily come from getting what you want (ask the lotto winners who end up with ruined lives). A happy home, as it says under my blog banner, flows from belonging to the Lord Jesus Christ. It is an inner joy that sustains me when the toilet overflows, the flu hits, and I can’t afford a Costco run this month. It is the peace that surpasses understanding when grief is like inner mud or fear threatens to rage in my mind. It is what strengthens the persecuted, feeds the feeble-minded, and causes the heart to long for its REAL home…which isn’t here right now.

 

I sense that home is not what you want, but happiness is. If you haven’t done so already, and will repent of your anger, your bitterness, your pride and whatever else presses on your conscience, and trust the Lord to cleanse you and keep you, HE will be your happiness.

 

At that point, wherever you are, He will be with you…even if you’re at home! Wherever you are, you can have His joy. And let me tell you, that joy is even more wonderful than the happiness you are currently seeking. I pray you find it.

 

Blessings,

Motivation in Downsizing

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My motivation is waning.

 

I still need to downsize, to simplify. I feel like I’m sleeping in a closet, and my eyes have nowhere to rest because there is clutter on every horizontal surface. Too much furniture, too many toys, too much stuff…and all of it breeds dust bunnies and invites even more complication in trying to keep everything clean.

 

I feel like I’m starting from scratch. The kind of scratch I began from when I was newly married, except now I have a 6yo with Down syndrome who runs around like a 2yo, and I have a 2yo who runs around like, well, a 2yo. And I’m sitting to nurse every few hours and between those times, carrying her around with one arm while trying to manage and conduct the rest of the household with the other.

 

I move from room to room, confused at times. What do I get rid of? What do I just pack up and put aside? And, if I choose to put it aside, WHERE? In the utility room that stays damp and cultivates mildew and mold? I refuse to rent a storage unit. And I *know* a bigger house isn’t the answer.

 

The crazy thing is that I love pictures of homes that are completely decluttered, full of light and space and shine. The chair with two books. The table with a few apples. The children’s bed with a single teddy bear on top. Maybe they’re fake. But they resonate with me, they call me to peace.

 

So I have that sort of thing in mind, and then I wander into a room and feel the deflatement in my heart.

 

I have a dozen books just on the subject of writing (that I’ve already read). Two drawers overflowing with table linens (that I never use). Stacks of wooden toddler toys (that no one plays with). Platters I never pile foods on, audio tapes I never play, and clothing I keep “just in case”.

 

Why don’t I just sell them? Donate them?

 

I’ll tell you why.

 

I already DID all of that. I already sent van loads and van loads (and van loads) of stuff away. I already sold driveways-full of garage sale things. And what is left is, basically, the stuff I LIKE.

 

So I’m stuck in this weird world of being completely unhappy with how things are, and yet being my own worse enemy. It’s like I’m addicted to my stuff. And the other dumb thing is that I can hardly remember any of the things that have already went, so I’m sure it wouldn’t kill me to prune some more.

 

Guilt doesn’t work (think of all the people who don’t have as much!) and neither does re-organizing (and re-organizing). Much like any change, it’s hard. It’s painful. It involves a little bit of spunk and a spark of courage. It involves a plan (today: the cookbooks!).

 

But as I said, the motivation is up and down. Right now it’s down (and I’ve escaped into blogging instead). Downsizing is not all Pinterest-pretty. Sometimes it’s not even worth a photo at all.

 

Plugging away (most days),

Are You Convicted? Or Are You Shamed?

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So you have failed? You cannot fail. 

You have not failed; you have gained experience. 

Forward! 

Saint Josemaria Escriva

One evening our family heard a talk that had in the midst of it the importance of naming your children at birth correctly. This was important because the name chosen sets into motion the vision for that child, and reminds that child for life who he or she is, and proclaims to the world that message as well.

 

When we got home, our children wanted to know why they had the names they did. Some had names from family members, but ultimately, our reason sounded rather limp: we…uh…we just happened to like the sound of your name…

 

At the time I felt poorly about it, and wished a do-over in which every name could carry more weight. Since then, I’ve realized that, yes, even men with the name of Jesus are rightly serving time in prisons, and furthermore, I didn’t share the convictions this speaker had regarding the proper way  to name a baby.

 

But initially I felt shamed, like fingers were pointed at me. But this is the thing: shame does not mean sin was involved. It is not the same as guilt. It does not need forgiveness or restitution. It is a feeling of being wrong, but is not based in actually having done so.

 

Shame is a feeling that something you’ve done, or are doing, or even who you are, is received with condemnation or dislike. Or you may not receive appreciation or acknowledgement. You’ve dip-dyed your hair and no one wants to sit next to you at potluck.

 

Guilt is the sense of having done something sinful, like stealing your friend’s favorite tea mug (that’s high treason in my book!).

 

How do you know the difference, and why does it matter?

 

Well, let’s begin with the many standards we as Christians, especially women, make. As you look over this list, think about how strongly you feel about each one.

 

drinking alcohol

smoking cigarettes

what type of doctor to see

pants or skirts

tattoos and nose rings

burial or cremation

sabbath keeping

toys for your children

TV and movies and ratings

childbirth

organic eating

caring for environment

prepping/survivalist

homesteading

how many children to have

homeschooling

vaccinations

denomination

Bible version

parenting: attachment or scheduling

handmade or store-bought

raise your own or grocery shop

and of course…how you name your children

 

As you think through your feelings about each of these things, ask yourself:

 

  • Why do I think the way I do about that?
  • From where did I get that belief?
  • Would I in any circumstance at all ever consider the alternative of that belief?

 

There is a vast difference between convictions (which should be few) and preferences (which are many). A conviction leads someone to die at the stake. A preference allows for unique circumstances, abilities, temperaments, and experiences.

 

We often take on someone else’s convictions or preferences and measure them against our unique situations. This isn’t always a bad thing. We see those messengers as loving, well-intentioned, educated, passionate, and even helpful. We read their blogs and books, listen to their lectures and pay for their conferences. It is good to hold up what they are proclaiming into the light and see if they can enrich our lives. Often they do.

 

Decisions that are made from them, however, ought to be made carefully. Here are some helpful questions:

 

  • Do you fear any sort of fallout if you don’t do whatever they are teaching or doing?
  • Are you afraid others will see you differently or not as well if you do or don’t do these things?
  • Are you fearful of failure?
  • Are you feeling condemned or disapproved of?
  • Does disagreeing make you want to hide under a bushel?

 

If so, please see that your underlying motivation is FEAR and avoiding SHAME. Is this you? Friend, making decisions out of a sense of shame does not lead to peace. If you are not sure you are feeling shame or if it is righteous guilt, please take a minute to ask yourself (chapter and verse) what sin you committed. And then ask yourself–if it IS a sin–if that sin has been atoned for already.

 

If you are a Christian, perhaps your biggest fear (gnawing gnat that it is) has been in disappointing God, because you love Him. Now we know we don’t purposefully go abiding in what we know is sin with “liberty” as an excuse, but we also make room for others in their preferences. Those differences may not be sin at all, despite how serious your shuddering in thinking of wearing a head covering (or not!).  After all, God’s standards were only a list of ten.

 

Also, if you are a Christian, you already know you’ve broken those standards. Furthermore, you have already repented of them, were cleansed by the blood of Christ and forgiven. And so where does your GUILT lie? At the foot of the cross of course, in the depths of the sea, as far as the east is from the west. This, as you may surmise, is my CONVICTION.

 

Therefore, there is no more condemnation for you. EVEN if you make a decision now that you later regret or change your mind over. EVEN if…dare I say…you FAIL and (dum dum dummmmm) Make The Wrong Decision. Or change your mind. Or (God forbid) you start wearing pants, get a part-time job, and pierce your nose.

 

And IF there is no condemnation or guilt….where is the shame? From whom does it come? Certainly not from the Lord. And not from a blogger (I personally don’t really care if you wear jeans, work at WalMart or have a nose piercing), speaker or anyone else.

 

You really can live in peace, making decisions from your own convictions and not from a foundation of shame. Don’t let shame keep you fearful. Understand the sovereignty of God. Bless the Lord for your uniqueness and appreciate it. Know you will be in His will and that all things work together for your good. Because the Bible says you will make mistakes. You will feel you failed. You will sin and others will sin against you. But as the quote at the head of this post goes, you haven’t really failed but gained experience. And at this point there is nowhere else to go but forward.

 

So go forward. Hear and read new ideas, thoughts and the convictions and passions of others. Feel free to change how you think or do things, but do so out of hope and not shame. And may the peace of the Lord in His love and acceptance of you because of HIS broken hands (and not what your hands have done or will do) go with you.

 

Blessings,

Settling In

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I still feel like I’m running, but now it feels more like running out of time. I’m a few weeks away from babyhood showing up and I am still working on schoolwork deadlines (I’ll share more about that later). Meanwhile, we closed on our old house, which to be truthful felt a little disorienting but we are now able to return our attention to this little house and get it ready (we hope!) for winter.  Here the tour continues with our main living space. Previously, we had a very large great room, plus a separate media room, plus an open loft. Now we just have this one room to gather in.  No one gets to escape 🙂

 

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It looks a little cluttered when you first come in, but there is organization involved. The wood stove flanks the middle of the house, and to the left is the kitchen and to the right is the dining room. I cut the main living room into thirds, with one-third as an entry/fiber workshop.

 

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Here is my little loom with space in the back for my spinning wheel and baskets of yarn and supplies. A note of interest…see all of the boards on the walls and ceiling? They are old growth timber, very hard and very long. One gentlemen remembered that when this house and the similar neighbor house was built, the men would go up into the mountains to bring back timber, and the women would mill it here on the property.

 

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On the loom is a baby blanket I’m weaving. I expect it will take a couple more hours to finish.

 

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Here is the other two-thirds of the room. I like that there is plenty of room for a lot of people to squeeze in; seating on the coach, piano bench, and chairs all around. All of our games and lap blankets are in the trunk (aka “foot rest”). The computer screen is currently where we watch movies; we hope to upgrade that computer and screen really soon. We don’t have a TV, cable, or consoles with video games. I honestly don’t know where we’d have time for any of that. I’d love to have a basket where visitors would turn in their cell phones while here, but I think folks would seriously freak out without them. It’s sort of sad, really. But I digress.

 

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The chair in the corner is next to the corded phone. One of my passions is cultivating an uncluttered and relaxed life, so yes….sit your hiney down to talk on the phone and leave the multi-tasking behind. Plus, no one ever loses the phone. Plus, it will still work if/when the power goes out (common here in the PNW). Plus,  it cuts down on all of the radiation traveling all over the place. Here’s a short article about that sort of thing.

 

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This is the view from the corner chair. After the kids have cleaned up and I chased them outside so I can take pictures 🙂

 

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Toys are here and there, just like in our last home. These are *family* rooms, so you’ll find toddler puzzles, blocks, and other toys all around nicely put into baskets. Our babies can easily play here, and it also makes visitors with children more comfortable. No one has to disappear into other unseen rooms for toys. You can see and hear more about how I organize toys here.

 

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This little table used to be my desk (I’ll show you what I’m using now later). This will be our puzzle table, another place to hang out. Our violins (and viola) are on the wall, along with most of our DVDs. The basket under the table is full of magazines I like and a bunch of library books. If you noticed the cord running down the stars, that’s because we still don’t have power upstairs as we finish up the second bedroom.

 

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There are lots of nooks and crannies for toys and books. We didn’t waste much space!

 

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I think what makes a house a home is not only the people in it, but what you have around you. I like homemade and handcrafted things, old things that have history…which means–in a way–the people behind those things are also present. I’ve brought out the autumnal colored quilts I’ve made, along with other handwork pieces. I find slow work to be the best work.

 

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In decorating, I also find it helpful to repeat things. For example, I happen to really like birds. There are a whole lot of birdhouses outside actually in use, but they are inside, too! I made room for this large cage; I just love it. Maybe someday when the children are gone and it’s too quiet,  I’ll put canaries in it. Right now, however, I treasure the quiet when I can get it and the children like playing with the fake birdies in there.

 

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This is my little spot for handwork and reading and just being with my family. Do you all have a little spot or two of your own?

 

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That’s all for now. Tom and I are planning a last podcast on this series of downsizing. My next few weeks will be busy with preparing (and hopefully blessedly having) a new baby, finishing my schoolwork, and completing the indoor work in the house. My “Big Plan” for winter is simply to lay fallow, spend time with my honey to dream and plan for our future, to enjoy the children and cooler weather and woodstove fires and just relax through the holidays. My winter will be, God willing, empty of deadlines and perhaps I can glean from Him more about what He meant when He promised His burdens were light. I hope you’ll join me in seeking that unhurried life.

 

Blessings,

Not in the Way You Might Desire

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We’ve been talking as a family about how God always answers our prayers, but sometimes it’s “not in the way you might desire.” For example, a gentleman might pray for more time to spend with his family…and the Lord might allow him to face an injury that keeps him from going to work. In our family recently, the oven we had blew up. Well…not really “blew up” but the element died and the whole thing shorted with a loud pop and then smoke came billowing from the oven door and my 8 and 14yo sons stood as soldiers ready for fire with extinguishers in their hands watching it.

 

Me?  I just started laughing, because at that very moment my husband was walking a gentlemen out the door who had just helped repair a hole in a water pipe in the bathroom. We’re playing “whack a mole” as my friend says.

 

I was a little (ok…a lot) disappointed because although a new oven was in my “someday” plan it wasn’t Today’s Plan. I didn’t want to buy a new oven. I wanted the old one to last so I could buy–after our old house closes–a small swing set for my kids. But I was resigned. After all, one does need to bake scones on occasion. And boil water for tea. So we prayed for an oven.

 

Well. Turned out my husband shared this with our secretary. Turned out she had one she didn’t need anymore. Turned out we could have it. For free. Today. So off we went to bring said oven home and let’s just say that my attitude wasn’t the stuff of Gratitude and Appreciation when I saw the condition of it. The secretary apologized for its filth…she hasn’t used it in a year, and so it was needing a little TLC. I said it needed a blow torch to get it clean. And so there I was in all my Flaws (aka “sins”) murmuring about a FREE.STINKIN.WORKING.OVEN. And if that wasn’t enough, my dear children reminded me of the lesson I had expounded just days before about how “God answers prayers, but not always in the way you might desire”.  Yes, your children will quote you someday if they haven’t begun already. Sometimes my Lord pokes at me like that. And then I sheepishly get on with life and buy oven cleaner.

 

My house is still a disaster. It feels like one of the square plastic puzzles where one room is finished, but in order to finish another room, that unfinished room needs to be emptied into the “finished” room and once again we deal with piles of boxes, clothing, books, STUFF cluttering up the hallways, floors and corners. I keep lamenting to my whack-a-mole friend (yes, she’s that pithy on a regular basis) that “I just want my house in orrrrrderrrrrrr….” And she just snaps back each time with a smile and, “You will.” I think at this point I’ll just start testing my theory that she will always say that. But don’t tell her that. I might just need to hear it regularly and often.

 

So, today I figured I needed to look past the Mess (capital M) and find some good in the nooks and crannies. I really do love this house; I love its flaws and even the projects we need to do. But it’s sure going to feel awesome to see my floors again and rest my eyes on orderly countertops. Here are some glimpses of the good things I need to think on instead. Cameras are good for that, you know.

 

Grapes are coming in along the fence lines. I’ve never grown grapes before; we hardly know when it’s ripe to pick. But what a lovely fruit to come into season at just this time, as the blackberries are fading in another summer’s memory. I’m reminded that as often as I lament my lack of a garden this year (I never claimed not to be a whiner), the Lord still saw fit to provide a harvest I didn’t plan on. Isn’t He good? Yes and amen and hallelujah thank you Jesus.

 

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And, nope, not tired of our backyard mountain view yet. You’ll probably get a bazillion pictures of that over time 🙂 Nothing messy about this view!

 

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We got two cords of wood delivered from a very nice gentleman and although I know we’ll need more, I have to say it feels really good to have the woodpile at least started. It feels better to me than money in the bank (which is a good thing if you know what I mean!). Just like having food growing, my children around me, and a roof over my head. Running water. Olive oil. Music. Make your own list 🙂

 

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The kitty feels right at home. Having a kitty makes a home more homey, methinks. She’s not real bothered by the mess, either.

 

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My children continue to bring in little flowers from here and there and pop them into jars on windowsills or dresser drawers or tables. I don’t know what I like more: the flowers themselves, or the fact that my children pick them to share with me. Probably the latter 🙂

 

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My eldest daughter has taken on some chores on her own, like the laundry. She loves to hang them outside. I don’t blame her; it’s a nice, meditative work–in the sunshine and fresh air. She’s doing some sewing, too…like making these curtains for the bathroom out of extra shower curtain fabric. I think they’re so pretty.

 

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I’m almost finished weaving a baby blanket. It’s a soft and nubby cotton with a ribbony blue trim on the edges. Sometimes I just gotta forget the call of the mess and just sit and weave. Or knit. Or doodle. And, yes, I missed a couple of threads in the reed, but the pattern is still good and the finished blanket will shrink a smidge and hide that spot well. So says the expert weaver I asked. Wish I could hide my own imperfections as easily as that.

 

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The one thing I manage to do, other than prepare and eat three meals a day (that’s an accomplishment all on its own, don’t you think?), is make my bed every day. The rest of the house can look a mess, but if my bed is made, my eyes rest there instead of on the stuff I’m tripping over. I think everyone needs “the ONE chore” that makes for good feeling. Then, everything else is just frosting on the cake.

 

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I really do want my house in order, but it is coming along. Just not in the timeframe I would desire (um…yesterday?). Instead, I feel the pressure of deadlines. Schoolwork to finish, winter to prepare for, a baby on the way. God knew it would be this way. He is teaching me and showing Himself in ways I would have missed otherwise. Maybe I didn’t–and don’t–desire the manner in which these prayers of mine have been and are being answered, but patience, experience, hope and strength are apparently more important to Him to cultivate in me than in my having a tidy home right now.

 

Blessings,

Sneak Downsizing Peeks #2

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Slowly, slowly…slowly…it is coming together. Boxes are moving out of the house, and shelves are going up. I’m going to spare you the corners that still have stuff all over the floor waiting for more shelving and hooks, and share some more peeks with you. Oh, and the entire upstairs hasn’t even begun to get unpacked yet–we still have work to do on the walls and ceiling and paint and floors. BUT….now that our big house is finally LISTED (woo hoo!) we can turn more of our attention to our current house.

We got the back pasture finally mowed (and mowed….and mowed…it was a lot!), and spent an afternoon butchering our meat hens. Our layers are parked in our old chicken tractor for the time being, until we can renovate the existing coop and put up some fencing. Who knows when we’ll get around to that?

What you don’t see in the distance over those little hills is the very large mountain behind it, hiding behind cloud cover. Our view is pretty spectacular. It’s very different from living in the woods! I liked the woods, too, but this is a very nice change 🙂

 

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A friend of ours filled our freezer a bit with some fish he had caught; what a blessing that has been! It’s been very nice to eat outside this summer as the kitchen gets itself in order.

 

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The cherries we’ve been picking (and then buying!) have been a happy addition to our diet. I just love locally grown food, don’t you?

 

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Speaking of things already growing here, we’ve been watching the grapes grow. I can’t remember ever eating a fresh grape right off the vine. I hope that whoever buys our other home will be just as blessed with the food already growing there.

 

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Inside, things continue to be unpacked and sorted, and even more given away. It’s hard to give away that set of creme brûlée dishes! Yes, I used them *maybe* once a year…but I did enjoy and use them. But, in the end, I use my crockpot more, so that’s what gets the space. It is interesting, however, how stubbornly I cling to things that I just plain love and find beautiful; I’m definitely not a minimalist. Nothing on this mantle is “necessary”, but my husband’s grandma gave me the one white pitcher on the right. She insisted I choose things from her home to keep before she died. This was all I wanted, and she gave it to me that very day with the biggest kiss. So…some things never end up in the pile to go away. Downsizing REALLY makes you reassess everything.

 

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I have many baskets, and I’ve made a few myself, too. I find them useful and do use them–not a whole lot ended up at the yard sale! Doesn’t this look cool in my mudroom? My husband did it, and I love the wire hooks he made. I can use this rack to hang lots of herbs to dry next summer, and won’t THAT look and smell awesome? Or, in winter, I could take the whole thing down and use for drying the wash by the woodstove. His other upcoming project is to build me an apothecary for my herbs–I can’t wait to see how that’s going to look!

 

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Another thing I love….my cookbooks! So fun to unpack and see again. Three whole shelves full, and that WAS a downsize! It’s nice to have them in view again, and the mugs and cups hanging ready for hot drinks. My kitchen is small and compact (pictures coming!), but I still like to create yummies for the people I love.

 

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My quiet spot–my desk–is almost in order, where I can write, art journal, continue my herbal studies and keep up with my letters. And blog. Do you have your own quiet spot? I have a chair in the living room I like to sit in also, to do handwork. Things seem to get more calm with me as my own spaces get into order. I’m sure it will be the same for my children upstairs as well, when that comes.

 

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The loom is set up (happy!) and I’ve begun a new warp for a baby blanket. Why not? I’ve already watched the first few leaves fall from the trees and can smell autumn coming. There is no garden for me to tend right now, so it’s as good a reason as any to begin thinking of those indoor handwork projects.Otherwise, when do I find time? I suppose it depends on how you define “time”. To me, taking 15 minutes is better than nothing at all, and most of my projects are done in just that way: here a little, there a little. One row of knitting is better than none, etc.

 

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We kept one room downstairs for a sewing/crafting room, rather than a nursery. So, the toddlers are upstairs with everyone else, and this room is slowly coming together.

 

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That’s all for now! If you’re praying (and thank you if you are!), please pray for our other home to sell quick. We’re learning a lot in this process, and I’m looking forward to sharing more soon.

 

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Blessings,

What If…(on Downsizing)

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I have a large slice of chocolate cake and a glass of milk next to my computer. I picked up the cake this afternoon from one of our local cafes, after I picked up the easy (read: conventional store-bought) meals to feed my family for the next few days. I’m sitting at the bar in my kitchen, looking out at counters topped with grocery sacks, bowls, odd pans and utensils and jars (still more jars!) and  crumpled up papers of garbage and paper towels and of course–as usual–the various pieces of legos. My kitchen smells like tallow because that was the last of my freezer, and it’s in the crockpot rendering. It’s not the most pleasant smell. On floors everywhere are piles and piles of boxes: standard moving boxes, grocery boxes, paper boxes, diaper boxes….all full of a crazy amount of *things* that I think I’m actually going to find room for in my smaller house.

 

Because, after all, I can’t get rid of the waffle maker we rarely (but delicously) use. Nor the dozens of seasonings or a library of cookbooks (heresy, that!). But…oh….I look at all of the boxes and can’t even see how the boxes themselves will fit onto the FLOOR of my house. And this, after massive decluttering, selling, giving away. Methinks I need to redefine what a “massive” decluttering means.

 

The reality is this. Once in the house, I will try to put things away and very, very soon (day one, I’m sure) it will become very, very clear what are the most important things to have. A set of dishes? Yes. Four sets? Um…no. Four little plastic toddler cups for mine and their pals? Sure. Fourteen? No.

 

And I know the struggle that will occur. But what if I need them later? What if my kids want to inherit them? What if the internet goes down forever and most of my books are gone? What if a family of sixteen comes to stay the night and I don’t have enough towels for them all? What if, what if, what if…

 

The previous owner left a mug for me. On one side, it says “What if…?”

 

On the other side, it says,  I have set the LORD always before me… (Ps 16:8)

 

I think that’s the answer to the “what if”s. If it’s not, then the only other option is to be anxious, fearful, worried, and too tight-fisted with the things (and they are things) of this world.

 

As I look around at the incredible amount of boxes I have packed, both in the garage and in the house, I see clearly that I have so much more to learn about what it means to walk lightly. Debt is not the only burden; too many things to buy, take care of, insure, dust and repair are. It’s one thing to love the house you’re in, and what you have. It’s another to enslave our lives to it all, working hard to pay the bills or to spend all of our time to keep those things in order. Clearly I get the *idea* of this. But the execution? Well….I have a lotta lotta boxes packed around here….

 

We are moving in two days. That means only two more nights of sleeping in our McMansion, with its double washer/dryer set, four toilets, fourteen exterior doors and radiant heat floors. We’ll have to learn how to use one washer/dryer, cook in a very small kitchen, maintain a wood stove for heat, and use one bathroom for the 9 (almost 10) of us. Neither my husband nor I have any sense of false bravado that we can “just do it”. It’s a leap of faith.

 

It’s also a little overwhelming. But I wonder if….what if….I’ll actually get the chance to always–always–set the Lord before me? Maybe I’ll have more need of Him when the woodpile is low or rain threatens my clothes on the line or children are underfoot (because…where else are they going to go?). Maybe as the bills dwindle, the dependence on the car wanes, and our big entertainment becomes sitting on the porch watching the stars…maybe we’ll actually have more of a LIFE.

 

I really have no idea how this is all going to work out. But as I hand the keys to our realtor next week and wake up in my rustic bungalow, I think much work in my heart will begin to be done, about what is real, what matters. Even if He does let me keep the waffle maker.

 

Blessings,

Seeking Balance in Downsizing

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Proverbs 30:8-9   Remove far from me vanity and lies: give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with food convenient for me:  Lest I be full, and deny thee, and say, Who is the LORD? or lest I be poor, and steal, and take the name of my God in vain. 

That was the verse I attached to the photograph of the house I printed off the computer last year when I was dreaming of downsizing and finding balance in our lives and finances. I was dreaming of having a house that was completely paid for, with land for a big garden and some livestock, in an area where my children could have more opportunities for things like hopping on bikes to go fishing. Just wistful dreams, mind you. But I put the picture of the sweet little house (advertised for sale as “the Lord’s house”) into my “God jar” as a visual representation of what I really hoped my life would look like: simple and deliberate, free from debt, in balance and pleasing to the Lord.

 

This  jar is where I put little strips of papers with what I just need to give to God. It helps to do the physical act of writing it down and putting it where I can see it. And anytime I worry about anything at all, I can just pray about it and remind myself–and again see it in full visual view–that I have, in fact, given it to God. I got the idea from Julia Cameron.

 

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As it turns out, that little house belonged to (not a surprise) a godly Christian man. And that we had actually met him once before when he visited our church and he remembered us. And that he and my husband after reconnecting had many good talks about living that kind of proverbs 30:8-9 kind of life. Finally, that man offered us a lease-to-own option, to allow for us to have the house as ours while we sold our current one, extracting–we hope–a good down payment to complete the purchase when all was said and done.

 

I still am rather stunned by the whole course of events, but here we are. That little house I stumbled upon has become ours. I still keep asking the Lord, “Really? Really?”

 

Meanwhile, my current house is a wreck. Trying to navigate the first trimester AND pack up an entire household into boxes is, shall we say, challenging. Knowing that I’m moving into a space a third the size I currently have for living and storage is also tricky. Part of me is thrilled; I guess I am a bit of a practical minimalist at heart and I’m quick to throw out anything that isn’t really necessary (which, face it, is most of what we have). The other part is sentimental; I’m not very quick to throw out family heirlooms or furniture, no matter how much I can’t see where it’s all going to go in the new house.  I’ve made peace though: one garage sale here, and one later there for the stuff that doesn’t fit! What better way to meet my neighbors?

 

So the beds are pretty much constantly unmade these days.

 

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And the dishes…well…they get a few meals in before they’re washed.

 

 

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And oy, the boxes upon boxes upon boxes. Thankfully, we’re moving them out of the house and into the garage. That will make our house easier to show for potential buyers and the move itself easier, too. We can move when the new-to-us house is ready; it needs insulation and walls upstairs. For starters.

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One difficulty I’ve had is what to do with all of the unfinished projects I have everywhere. At first I thought I ought to finish as many of them as possible, to make the transition more orderly and to better organize. But then…really…I hardly have the time to finish up these things during NORMAL life…and I’m supposed to finish them while pregnant, packing for a move, fixing up an old house, and changing locations? Yeah…right.

 

I am, however, hoping to finish these kitchen towels. I’m about halfway through, and I can’t imagine trying to move my loom with a working project on it.

 

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Other projects I have that I’m trying to get into some order are things like pasting into my art journal all kinds of papers that I had in piles all over my desktop.

 

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I’d like to finish sewing up some leather journals I made while I was in Portland last month.

 

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And–bother–the piles of recipes I’ve clipped over the years, to organize “someday”. Do I just plop the whole mess into a box to do “later”? Or toss it all?

 

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One thing I can’t toss is the miscellaneous hand projects I have going: binding a quilted table runner, embroidering an apron, knitting a scarf, appliquéing wool felt…plus odds and ends of mending. Maybe, I think, once my current house is on the market and I’m waiting for the other house to be ready for us, I can work on these lovely things. Maybe.

 

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Don’t even ask me about schoolwork. My older kids are pretty much on independent studies, and my younger ones are “taking a vacation” like the mass of public schoolchildren counting the days until summer break. I was thankful to get “unsolicited advice” (her words, not mine!) about letting the schoolwork go for right now. I was more than relieved to box most of it all up! I did keep MY schoolwork out, thinking, again, maybe, I might have a chance to pick at it.

 

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So that’s where we are right now…crazy busy getting our house ready for market and packing, packing, packing. I do feel the *deadline* of getting everything sold here, ready there, moved and put away and organized before autumn, when baby is due. But I suppose that instead of stressing over it, I would do well to get out another scrap of paper, write “transition” or some such onto it, and put it into the jar. Don’t you think so?

 

Blessings,

Hard Marriages and Silent Wives

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Another friend of mine is divorcing. It makes me sad. And it makes me sad when I go to weddings, too. I want to warn the couple: the chances are very, very (very) good that there will be a “for worse.”

 

But I’m also sad at how our faith community handles family breakdowns as well. I don’t think we’ll ever see or comprehend the amount of damage the Doug Phillips/Bill Gothard situations have created. I can’t help but think of their wives.

 

It used to be, typically, that being wives and mothers was a normal event, and that most women were home to live that out. I remember, as a kid, only one mom on the block leaving the home to seek outside work, and that it was a touch weird. In the afternoons, every kid on the block was outside, roller skating, biking, playing soccer. We raced home chasing our fathers as they drove home from work in time for the evening meal.

 

Was it easier to stay married then?

 

I don’t know. But I do remember that my mother had plenty of friends nearby, and that she had the leisurely time in the afternoon to make Greek coffee and to chat. And I’m guessing that they didn’t just talk about knitting patterns and weather but also spent some time laughing and griping about whatever their hubbies were and weren’t doing. At the end of it, though, they just rinsed out their coffee cups and went on with it. And “it” was usually a marriage that lasted decades upon decades, even in the rare midst of friends yanking friends out of truly abusive situations.

 

Today, however, our society finds it a touch weird to stay home, and especially to have and raise any number of children more than one or two. In the midst of defending our choices to do so, many Christian women (especially) have clammed up regarding any sort of problem in their family lives.

 

Why?

 

Well, if you share anything, two things might happen. One, a lack of sympathy: you’re the one that decided to (supposedly) “throw away” an education or other opportunity. This is especially compounded if the wife has ever preached on how wonderful marriage or home life is. Or, two, a pious response rebuking your sin in sharing, of “gossip”, and supposedly spreading ill-will regarding your husband. Both of these are multiplied like crazy if the man is someone in good standing in the church or community.

 

And you can almost hear the taunts, then, too: she trusted in God, let her trust in Him now, and let us see if this cross she bares disappears.

 

So, women, especially Christian women, typically remain silent. They don’t have friends over for coffee to let off steam and they certainly don’t ask for help. Because, and this is true also, many times the courage that it takes to ask for help is answered by well-meaning promises for prayer and accountability…but those don’t really happen, not really. Who has leisurely time in the afternoons anymore?

 

What echoes instead in a suffering woman is this: a wise woman builds her house, but a foolish one tears it down. No one I know wants to be the cause of a fallen house, regardless of her husband’s part in it. And too many, I’m sad to also say, Christian women will look to that wife as the ultimate cause of the break. The guilt of sinning (supposedly) in looking for help compounds the problem; it can feel like you’ve sinned against the Lord Himself.

 

So my friend, currently divorcing, stayed silent. And now she is divorcing and nothing I can say or offer will cause her to reconsider or to even ponder what part she had in the whole mess. It’s just too late.

 

So what do we have? A lot of very dignified Christian women acting in public like nothing ever gives them hives or reasons to cry in the shower. A lot of very sad Christian women dealing with trouble in complete loneliness. A lot of secular women pointing fingers and wagging their tongues at the fallout…and a lot of Christian women doing the same, even if it’s just in self-righteous thought. And, unfortunately, we have a lot of divorces, both inside the faith and out. Broken families hurt all of us.

 

One thing I know from all of this. We can’t solely rest on and interpret and apply our faith through the words of any man, whether it be a popular evangelical preacher, a lexicon author or Calvin himself. Scripture interprets scripture, scripture defines itself. If you want to *follow* someone, let it be Jesus Himself, who will never leave nor forsake any Christian, and will not rebuke or cast out the one who comes to Him in anguish, praying for the salvation of her marriage. God’s wisdom and comfort is right there in your Bible in plain English.

 

If you are in the midst of a trial in your marriage, please take the time to read this. I hope it gives you both sympathy and hope. Please notice her very real pain. Please notice her dependence upon the Lord. And please know she had FRIENDS who listened and counseled and did not count it as sin to share her trials.

 

What is the ultimate-fix-any-marriage answer? I don’t know, but maybe more coffee with friends wouldn’t hurt.

 

Blessings,

Why I’ve Been Quiet

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Oh, where oh where to begin….

This is going to be equal to about a dozen blog posts, but I’m going to just dump them all here. You can attend to the subtitles and read to your interest(s).

MARRIAGE: Twenty-two years later, we’re still in the ebb and flow of relationship. That happens, doesn’t it? It’s been good to reassess what the big picture is and what our goals are. I like having two decades plus behind us; we’ve learned a lot and are stronger because of everything we have to row through.

DOWNSIZING: This is one of our goals right now. I know I’m speaking to a whole lot of people when I say the economy hasn’t been kind the last half-dozen years. I got tired of griping about it and am now putting up what seems like half of our goods onto Craig’s List, and working to get the house onto the market (again). We are trusting the Lord to provide our next home. In addition to CL, I have a massive pile of stuff for a garage sale coming up. I’m even decluttering our book shelves, which I know, feels so wrong for any homeschooling mama. But I have seven BAGS of Christian living books to offer and relieve myself of, and that’s just one subject! I admit that with every bag of *whatever* I manage to get out of my house, I feel lighter. It’s a slow process.

WRITING: I’m currently reviewing the editor’s notes for my upcoming book, Present, and I’ve written a study guide to go along with it. I am hoping to release it in May, but my stubbornness for quality means that it will be ready when it’s ready. I’m also reviewing a friend’s book. If that weren’t enough, I have the rough draft to another book on Hospitality (no title yet) almost finished and third and fourth offerings begun.

 

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HOMESCHOOLING: Of course, I’m still homeschooling, although at this point it feels more like “homeschool managing”. Most of my children are able to manage their own schoolwork; the young ones are the only ones I really “sit down and teach”. This is the first year I’ve been more hands-off, and my older children are going further than if I had tried to (typically) micro-manage them. My eldest daughter is apprenticing with a tailor, and my eldest son is heading to a mission aviation camp this summer to see if that’s where the Lord leads him. It’s such a privilege to homeschool!

 

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SCHOOLWORK: Speaking of schoolwork, I have my own, too. I’m working through the Clinical Master Herbalist certification through Vintage Remedies. I’m liking it, but in truth am growing weary of online and long-distance courses. There are definitely pro’s and con’s; I’ve done them for fifteen years now. But I’m ready to meet up with some real people, real mentors, in real life. In the meantime, I’m still plugging away here.

 

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ART: I’m still art journaling every day. I really enjoy it.  Some days it’s a little doodle, some days it’s a timely watercolor. I also like incorporating herbs into my artwork, too.

 

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I don’t know why these pictures came out dark. I do know I have children that like to play with the settings on my camera though!

 

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GARDEN: It’s hard to get real excited about gardening when I’m fairly confident I won’t be here to harvest. Well, I *think* I won’t be. Last time we put our house on the market, I was wishy-washy then, too, about planting. I’m sure glad I did, because we ended up eating the green beans, salads, and garlic ourselves! Instead, I continue to plan and plant, asking the Lord to bless it all so that the next family will be blessed by it. Hopefully, someone is planting something for ME to harvest in a new house!

 

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BARNYARD: As you may remember, I gave my last two dairy goats to a friend, and one of them recently had kids! It is another thing I am hoping for: a home where I can have goats again. My neighbor’s husband came home with chicks that the wife said, “no way” to, so we are going to at least raise some chicks again. One thing I’ve discovered is that NOT having fresh eggs is a rotten state of affairs! I hope to take my layers with me.

 

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PODCAST: Yes, we’ll be returning soon! We have a couple of guests to line up, but we are looking forward to getting back to it.

FRIENDS: I’m thankful for my friends! We are currently going through Discipline by Elizabeth Elliot together and have a cabin retreat planned. I’m looking forward to that!

 


HANDWORK: Still plugging along on my beaded scarf for Easter, and now onto the second silk scarf on the loom.

 

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FAMILY: Still blessed to be home raising up my children. It is a delight to celebrate birthdays and just enjoy life and friends together. Someday when my years come to an end, I hope to have the blessing of looking upon many, many grandchildren, all walking with the Lord Jesus Christ.

 

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I hope you are all well as winter huffs and puffs the way out. By God’s grace, I am persevering.

More Sewn Bible Covers

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It looks like we finally got a little bit of winter here in the Pacific Northwest, at least enough to snow us in and make a good excuse to spend extra time in the kitchen making pumpkin doughnuts. We live at the end of a long gravel road and without a spiffy 4×4 (we dream of having one someday!) we were stuck at home. I loved it.

 

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The last two mornings I have heard the cheerful chirping of birds coming home from their migrations. Even though the gardens are still limp and asleep, I like hearing the first birds of spring. It gives a little ray of hope, that spring will come. This morning I heard a little frog as well. You get to hear little pleasures like that if you get up early enough, before the chaos of breakfast and diapers and animal chores.

 

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Animal chores are slim around here. All we have left are a couple of dogs and cats and a handful of poultry. I asked my daughter what she wanted for her upcoming birthday; she said, “Something in the barn.” I assume she meant other than the barn cats. I don’t blame her for her longings. I myself avoid going into the barn and pastures; it’s quiet like a graveyard, ghost-like memories of goats and their funny personalities and spring kids.

 

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One night, my husband took the older children ice skating (here, that endeavor is an indoor rink). After herding the two babies left at home into bed for the evening, I had several hours of quiet. Quiet, other than at dawn, is rare in this house. I decided to sew a Bible cover for my newest Bible. I like using covers because it keeps the good Book in better condition for a longer period of time. I managed to get through a couple of sermons online while I sewed.

 

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Maybe you’re looking for the process of how I got from cloth to cover. You can find it here. I didn’t bother with a pencil pocket or handles (those always seemed odd to me), and I didn’t bother quilting or using interfacing for this little cover either.

 

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Instead of fully quilting this one, I stitched around some of the roses. The little bit of crochet and the button were hand stitched on after the cover was finished.

 

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I added extra ties, too. The red ones were hand dyed and handspun by a friend of mine. I just like the feel and color.

 

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Here is what it looks like on the inside. It’s very easy to take on and off if necessary.

 

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And here are my two Bibles. You can see the very first quilted Bible cover I made here. That Bible really did fall apart and I couldn’t use it anymore, so it’s retired.

 

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How many Bibles do you have? More importantly, are they collecting dust? I like keeping two. The smaller one I keep for taking with me to Bible study and church. I also keep it clean, not writing in it.

 

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The other one I keep is larger, with fabulous wide margins for writing in. This is the one I use to study from. I have been long intrigued with using colored pencils to highlight. Here is a good blog post to learn about doing that. So perhaps the inside of my Bible will become just as colorful as the cover!

 

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You *are* reading your Bible, aren’t you? How else will you grow? Don’t be as one drawing near the Lord with your mouth but with your heart far removed (Isa 29:13).

 

Maybe some time listening to a sermon and sewing up a pretty Bible cover, or gathering up some colored pencils, will invite you to open its pages today.

 

Blessings,

“I Need to Go to the Store”

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I say those words far, far too often. In my case, it’s about twice a week, which may or may not sound as ridiculous to you as it does to me. But for as many years as I’ve worked towards decreasing my dependence on the supermarket, here I still am. I find it not only a great nuisance, but also wasteful. And dangerous. Anytime you *need* to go to the store means that it is a day your family better not get hit with a hurricane. Like illness. Like a pink slip. Like an injury. Or…a real hurricane.

 

I was thinking about this during lunch today. I sent the children outside to play while I put it together, and it ended up as something…well…”put together.”

 

Store (In)Dependence

 

I began with leftover sauce and bits of meat from last night’s crockpot. Then I added white beans I had soaked last night and cooked up this morning. Looking into the fridge, I found a bit of leftover chicken and leftover peas. I added freeze-dried bell peppers, dehydrated celery and onions, and powdered garlic. It all became a very full–and filling–pot of soup for our lunch. It felt a bit like Carly Emery‘s “Independence Days”, days in which her family could eat without going to the store. It is pretty close to how I imagine my grandmother ate: using up what she had, eating from her pantry, eating in season and from what she preserved. Given that she lived her whole life in a remote Greek village, she could “need to go to the store” all she wanted…but there was none, except a small shop I remember old men liked to gather in at chess tables. It sold cigarettes and probably ouzo. I don’t even know how she fed her hens and dairy animals (feed store? what feed store?), but I suppose that is pondering material for another blog post.

 

Would your kids eat the soup I made? If times got really tough, would you know how to make food like that? Do you know how to use your pantry (and would anything be in it?), and how to cook from leftovers (food you didn’t toss or forget about)? Could you bake a loaf of bread from a handful of wheat berries?

 

I am not where I want to be in this, obviously, because as thankful as I am for the opportunity and time and means, once or twice a week to the store IS ridiculous because it means opportunity lost for other endeavors, time lost to travel and shopping, and money spent that could have been saved or otherwise better stewarded.

 

Do you–like me– “need to go to the store” quite a lot? Does it concern you at all to be so dependent upon that store being there, it being open, your having a means to get there and back, and the money to spend there, and that it would have exactly what your family needed exactly when your family needed it? If any of those things failed, what would you all eat?

 

I will share with you what I’ve done so far for my own family to decrease our dependence on the store, and then confess *why* I still find myself there too much even now.

 

Grains and legumes are easy to store and they last a long time. Prepared properly, they are nutritious and filling. Because we like baked goods, I also store wheat, salt, baking powder, and honey. I have a good store of both baker’s yeast and sourdough starters. If I couldn’t leave the house for whatever reason, we could still eat for quite a while.

 

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I store a lot of seasonings, but the key here is that I store much of what I use a lot of. Every year I dehydrate and powder a quart or more of garlic and oregano. I also keep thyme, onion, cinnamon and nutmeg. My aunt in Arizona once sent me a quart of dehydrated mixed chili peppers; yum yum yum! Buying seasonings in bulk or dehydrating your own is very inexpensive. Buying little cans of unique seasonings for a one-time recipe is very expensive, but you don’t have to create everything yourself. Just make sure to have on hand what your family likes best.

 

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A few years ago I started experimenting with freeze-dried foods. They’ve come in very handy for those times I didn’t have what I wanted, and I wanted to avoid a trip to the store. The bell peppers in our soup today came from such a can.

 

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Another experiment of mine was to prepare ready-meals. It seems like the majority of the store is exactly that: ready meals and ready breads and ready salads and ready everything! There have been pah-lenty of times our family has gotten home late from wherever or just didn’t have the money *today* and the fridge was an echo chamber. I got the idea from Jennifer Ess and so far, we’ve liked most of what we’ve tried. I like that any of my kids could grab a jar or two, add water, let it all simmer and voila, a decent meal is served.

 

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My chest freezer is a blessing. I realize that if we lose power, I’m going to be canning and dehydrating a whole lot in a short amount of time *if* I have the jars (another thing to prepare…), but in the meantime, this freezer has been an excellent place for me to keep an entire grassfed cow, dozens of homegrown chicken, and plenty of fish. Before we said goodbye to the last of our goats, we stored up plenty of goat milk to either drink or use for soap, too.

 

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Another thing I store is plenty of herbs. We use them for our medicine and in preparations for the body (soap, shampoo, oils, etc). I love having my own full medicine cabinets!

 

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So, what’s missing and why am I STILL going to the store? For me, it’s a lack of canned and preserved PRODUCE. I love to prepare and eat everything fresh, and if I’m not getting it from the garden, I’m going to the store. Furthermore, I have yet to harvest a goodly amount to preserve….so far, my perennials and fruit trees are too young to do much more than feed us during the growing season. And, worse, I confess I’ve been far too lazy to buy up that big box of apples or pears in season and to spend the hours needed to put them away. This is a serious blunder on my part. The truth is that if I spent my hours PRESERVING what is currently very accessible in my area (via the store, or farmer’s markets, or the farm down the street…), I would have more time on my hands than is spent by my trying to grow everything myself. My garden will not go away (that’s an extra measure of food security), but I need to be more thoughtful and diligent in my PRESERVATION of fruits and vegetables, so that I can clearly have no other real reason to go to the store other than because I *want* to and not because it’s getting into afternoon and oh-dear-supper’s-due and now I *have* to.

 

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One last thought. When you are working towards building up your pantry, it is important to USE your supplies. LEARN to cook those beans, LEARN to use up those scraps of leftovers, LEARN to cook from scratch and so forth. Otherwise, it is not only a waste of resources and time, it will be tremendously stressful if that day ever comes when going to the store on a whim isn’t even a possibility. Is that likely to happen? I don’t know. I don’t put that possibility at a “zero” however, and so we work towards those coveted independence days.

 

Blessings,

How to Have the Christmas Spirit

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It’s interesting, this time of year. So much music and movies and chatter about the Christmas spirit, about how to get it, and what the season is “really about” (depending on whom you ask). Sometimes I feel happy about all of the activity and lights and peppermint. Sometimes I just feel emotionally manipulated by holiday musak in the grocery stores.

 

I was thinking on this when I was threading a new warp onto the loom, running cotton through steel heddles and trying not to make a nest of it. Isn’t that what we all try to do? Thread things carefully in our lives, tie up ends, and hope that knots undo with ease? But sometimes bad things happen through no fault of our own, or we sin and really make a mess not only in our own lives, but in the lives of others. Christmas isn’t really about having a holly jolly time of our life here, but we do long with hope for things to be right in the world,  don’t we? My heart breaks for the world, in sin and error pining.

 

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And recently I awoke to a dusting of snow, and it was beautiful and the peace was quite palpable. Christmas, however, is not just a feeling we get based on our (hopefully all in line with what we want) circumstances, pretty as it may seem with sugar cookies (a fridge full of food)  and stockings (a house full of stuff) hung with care (more to get!). I do enjoy these things and also desire to be comfortable in life–who doesn’t?–but none of that embodies the Christmas spirit.  Not really. As the preacher said, it is all vanity (Ecclesiastes 1:2).

 

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The Christmas spirit has nothing to do with family reunions and packages and the laughter of children either, though these are all sweet blessings from the Lord and desirable as well.

 

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Truly, the Christmas spirit is about how God entered into a worldly–and individual–mess to redeem it, to make it anew, to restore and make it beautiful. Christmas is really about the cross; the point of Christmas…is Easter. The lamb of God coming humbly into the world…and dying on a cross and resurrecting three days later to atone for the sins of those who would–also–humble themselves.  Have you repented and put your trust in Him alone?  Likewise, I say unto you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth. (Luke 15:10)

 

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Do you long to have a true Christmas spirit, that rightness with God and with man? Then do as the shepherds did on that eve, and bow humbly before the King of Kings. It is not gifts under a tree or fruitcake or reindeer that pause that cultivate the Christmas spirit.  It is WORSHIP of the Lord Jesus Christ.  He is worthy to be praised, even if our days aren’t merry, bright or white. How will you worship Him this season? In the coming year?

 

A very merry Christmas to you, and Lord willing, I shall see you in the next year.

 

 

Blessings,

Simple Christmas Decorations

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I’m a simple gal at heart, and I enjoy things that are natural, handmade, whimsical. Here is a little tour of some of the decorations around my home that fall into one or more of those categories.

 

Orange slices are easy to dry. I put the slices onto parchment and then slid them into the oven as it I pulled out supper, allowing the heat to slowly dry them out as the oven cooled. The next morning I forgot they were in there and preheated the oven! Oops! They got a tinge crispy on the edges, but I got them out in time.

 

Simple Christmas Decorations

 

Here they are, strung up with thread and on the tree. They really catch the light.

 

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I never could find a topper I liked so my husband created one out of a piece of copper pipe scrap from a plumbing job. The idea was to look like a giant tinkertoy.  Mission accomplished! As an added bonus, the rays all pull out of the center circle and store within the center pipe.

 

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I didn’t add much to the mantle, just some cedar from the woods outside, a string of lights and some carved wooden reindeer.

 

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I found this wooden nativity set years ago in a local artists co-op. I can’t remember where the wire trees came from (Pier One??) and I made the little angel hanging on the clock out of wool. My sweet neighbor made the Noel banner for me as a gift. The quilt in the background is one that I made.

 

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This banner is so cute! I love the simplicity of it. I bet a lot of you crafty gals could figure it out and make similar ones.

 

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What’s winter without snowflakes? Some years the only ones we see are the ones we make and tape upon the windows. We’re snobby snowflake purists: they *must* have six sides. I very much like this birdcage. Only quiet and clean (read: fake) birdies currently live in it, but I’m not opposed to putting in some real ones someday.

 

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However, I don’t think real birdies would don on mini Santa hats.

 

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A month ago I managed to drag a cabinet in from the basement and give it a good paint job. It’s not made of real wood (too bad!) but it still does the job. You can see my scrappy candy canes up top, and the top two shelves hold my collection of children’s Christmas books.

 

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For our Advent calendar, I traced a free mitten pattern from the internet and cut out 24 mittens. On the back of each is an activity for the day, such as creating Christmas cards or enjoying hot cocoa or playing music downtown.

 

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For our dining chandelier, we draped more cedars and then added paper chains and a little touch of gold garland.

 

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Our Christmas cards are hung on a string with mini clothespins.

 

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A friend made these snowflakes for me. Aren’t they gorgeous? I’m still amazed by them; they’re glass!

 

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Here’s another birdcage with the birdie escaped! We decorated the cage with vintage (read: thrift shop) Christmas ornaments.

 

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Some projects are ongoing, here a little, there a little.  Like some wool felt gingerbread men.  Just three of them.

 

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I still need to sew on the binding to a table runner I made from my scrap collection. Maybe I’ll finish it in time for next year 🙂

 

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And why not decorate with sticks? I want to hot glue them into star shapes.

 

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These ornaments-to-be are from clothespins cut short. They’re awaiting some paint and personality.

 

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I hope you are enjoying some quiet time this Advent, creating some lovely things for your home and family. None of it really needs to be complicated or expensive. You can see how I decorated my kitchen here.

Blessings,

Advent as a Time of Rest

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Is this a restful season for you?

I was thinking of this as I was putting the kitchen gardens to bed for the winter. The garlic was long ago planted, and everything else has been either pulled up or pruned, and a nice thick layer of mulch put on top. It doesn’t feel like bracing for winter; it feels like tucking in children underneath warm coverlets and watching them fall asleep, snuggled in safely. My gardens are ready for rest, for a pause in the work of taking in sunshine and putting forth roots and growing and expending energy to fight pests. In a similar pause, my work of cultivating and harvesting and weeding also pauses. As I stood with my trowel at the end of the cleanup, I thought, “now my garden can rest.”

 

And the next thought was, “now…..can you?”

Advent Rest

 

Well, of course not. Because the inside work continues. I still must cook, clean, do laundry, homeschool. But during this time of Advent, it seems the races are on to do ever more: fill out the calendar with events, plan extra baking, create or purchase gifts, and so forth. But I do wonder if on those Advent days it might be worthwhile to set aside time to daydream, watch the sunset, call out the owls, and take walks. Sometimes creation just beacons.

 

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Maybe it’s not creation calling after all. Maybe it’s Jesus. And maybe He knows that if I take time to watch the wind blow through the firs He will find a more ready ear. You know how sometimes you (or maybe it’s just me but I doubt it) open the laptop for “just 5 minutes…” and then it’s suddenly two hours later? I’m just wondering. How come that doesn’t more readily happen in prayer? Or Bible reading? Or in meditating on His Word? Like, “Oops! Spent too much time with You, God!”

 

Sometimes I am like this empty greenhouse. Ready for the Potter but I don’t make the capital T Time for Him to start planting more. So the spirit stands ready but the body and mind are operating like whirlwinds in a pinball machine, simply hitting things and making lights bling and bells sound but not really accomplishing anything. Not really.

 

 

rest2

 

 

Sometimes God will use a trial to draw you. Maybe you don’t have enough money for the gifts you want to buy. Maybe you don’t even have enough to fill the gas tank. Maybe you just got a divorce or your daughter was rude to you or the invitation to the party didn’t come or the doctor’s news wasn’t good. Sometimes a little navel gazing is good, to examine ourselves. Mainly, this too is an opportunity to draw near to Christ. There is nothing more important in times good OR bad than to draw near to Christ. But sometimes it takes a hard thing in our lives to even acknowledge Him at all. And to remember how we accepted good things–no, expected good things–because…well…we breathe air. But even the air we breathe is a gift. Advent is a good time to practice gratitude.

 

rest3

 

The fruit trees are pruned and the barn is quiet. Surely there are times of the Lord taking away from us. What probably hurts most are the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) idols we have put before Christ. There is a reason and a season for any loss, but in the end we have His promise that He which hath begun that good work in us will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ (see Phil 1:6). We can trust Christ to order our steps, so we can rest in Him working all things out. Advent is a good time to contemplate and reminisce of all of the times past He has given each of us rest, even from some things and people we thought were so important to and in our lives. And because He is faithful, we can cultivate trust this season by spending time, even extra time, reading and studying His words, in His Word. And, really, what’s really more important than that?

rest4

 

Resting is good for the soul. It is good for the body and mind, too. Winter here brings us to darkness around 4:30 in the afternoon. But the curse of electric power is the ability to stay up later and longer. Sometimes we are too smart for our own good, trying to get in extra chores, extra reading, extra (fill in the blank) long into the night, until we at last literally collapse into our beds, exhausted. And yet the list is not in actuality crossed off, for in the new day a fresh one appears. And appears. And appears. And we must gain some measure of accomplishment, some pride over doing our duties well and diligently, if we forsake sleep(s) to do so. And yet, God grants His beloved sleep (see Ps 127:2). Perhaps if more candles were lit and blue screens blown out, our bodies would know proper rest. Perhaps we take advantage of the earlier darkness to close our eyes sooner this Advent?

 

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I allow my animals to rest, too. I cannot bring myself to give my hens supplemental light. Sentimentality, perhaps. But I’ve yet to have an eggless winter, even if the quantity decreased. The Lord provides in times of quiet, too. Perhaps if you are caring for animals, there is some way to lessen the workload. Maybe a season off of breeding, or insuring a winter load of hay is in the barn so to avoid frequent trips to the supplier, or even downsizing. There are seasons for everything, yes?

 

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Advent can be a time of gaining new awareness, of practicing observation and opening our eyes more and tuning our ears. It is one thing to see and hear of a need and to jump up and volunteer to help. It is another to first take those needs to the Lord, diligently pray for them, and to wait. Maybe we are called to serve in that need. But maybe we aren’t. And we don’t have to do every traditional craft or event we always have done, just because we’ve always done it. Following Jesus throughout this season–and in fact every season–being yoked with Him, is never a burden, never harried nor heavy. It is a joy that we often do not take the time to pursue because we are too busy with our hands into too many places and our minds onto too many things. “Resting” just sounds, well, not very *productive*. Perhaps this Advent is a good time to challenge that thinking.

 

rest8

 

My family has a lot of decisions to make this upcoming year. In fact, I’m calling it “the year of decision”. The choices are laid before us and we wait to hear from the Lord so as to follow Him. As we wait on Him, and ultimately wait FOR His coming, His return, He commands us many, many times in Scripture to rest, to be at rest. Do you? Are you?

 

I am still a student at this and still rise too early, stay up too late, eat the breads of sorrows. I know it is difficult to put aside the clamor of our current lives and lifestyles. But I do believe it is a worthy endeavor to spend some time contemplating how our manner of walking in this world goes, and if it matches well to that of our Master. What is Advent really for, if not to prepare for His coming? And if He calls us to rest, ought we not to consider our ways, repent where needed, and obey?

 

 

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Again, is this a restful season for you? Do you need to rearrange anything in heart, mind or time to allow yourself to have that rest?

 

Matthew 11:28-29   Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. 

 

Blessings,

One Happy Home Morning

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I thank God for nights of unbroken sleep, but it took many nights of awakenings to cultivate that gratefulness.  Isn’t it interesting, how entitled we feel with regards to our blessings, God’s grace, that when His hand is removed from one or more of them we feel angry, frustrated, or sad (or is that just ME?).  As many nights in my life I’ve slept through, I can’t remember regularly waking with thankfulness for the quiet, the blankets, the work of restoration.  After years of crying babies and barking dog patrols and wee hour childhood vomits and even physical pains–these things continuing still–drawing me up from the fold of my sleep, I have learned to be more thankful for the times when my eyes open first at dawn.

Do you read your Bible in the morning?

Psalms 5:3   My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O LORD; in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up. 

I credit BSF for the habit of my morning Bible reading that was cultivated over 13 years ago.  I think sometimes it is easy to get stuck, to seek a reading plan or study or even the proper paper and pens before opening the Word.  Those things are useful tools, but the main thing is, you don’t need them.  You just need a Bible.  An open one.

 

morningBible

 

I enjoy getting into the kitchen before anyone else and believe a good morning here begins the night before.  If my kitchen is clean and the floors swept the night before, I don’t have to spend my first hour in the morning digging out of a mess just to find breakfast.  Instead, I can heat hot water and make tea and plan the morning meal in peace.  Usually by this time I am hearing thumps and bumps upstairs of children jumping down from bunks, and toilets flushing, and babies squawking.

 

morning tea and eggs

 

My kitchen chores in the morning are more busy than at any other time.  Maybe I have soaked nuts from the night before to dehydrate.  Or meat to defrost.  Or a crockpot to start.  My calendar is also there and I’m busy mentally planning the day or jotting down phone calls I need to return.

 

soaking almonds

 

Speaking of planning meals, we are overrun with pumpkins and squashes!  They are all over the house, on counters, on the fireplace mantle, on the floors….  Thankfully, the babies haven’t smashed anything yet as they wobble about the house, carrying them in their fat little arms.

 

pumpkins

 

Most mornings I’m able to take time to answer emails and read my Twitter feed (or post a blog!).  And I don’t know exactly why, but making my bed every morning just feels good.  It is pleasant to see a made bed throughout the day, even if I’m stepping over landmines of toys and legos everywhere else.

 

computer

 

At some point in the morning, sometimes I get a chance to lay down a layer of paper or read a chapter of homework or finish up a project.  Most of my art journaling happens in 15-20 minutes spurts, here a little, there a little.  From here I can watch my children feeding the chickens and letting out the ducks, and enjoy the dogs romping in play.

 

journal

 

journal

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Most of the rest of my morning is busy with homeschooling and household chores and caring for our babies.  Running around here we have our 18 month old and of course Ruby (I can see I need to update on her!).  Today I am baking pumpkin–again (for muffins, soups, pancakes…) and making sourdough pizza dough for a time of outdoor wood-fired pizza making with friends.

cook pumpkins

 

 

Our mornings are pretty happy around here.  I need to be more thankful for them!

 

Blessings,

Eat Well

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eatwell

pastured eggs, kale, chanterelles, red onions, tomato, fig, seaweed

bulletproof coffee on the side

 

It doesn’t much matter that we know we’re eating junk.  Guilt over the half bag of cookies? Check.  Late night snacking? Check.  Dare I say soda-pop? Check.

But, eh, you only live once and a little bit, moderation even, doesn’t hurt.

Except it isn’t true, and neither denial nor sincere belief will alter the biochemistry of what those foods are doing in and to our bodies.

Sometimes we know.  We’re a little stuffy, a bit congested (“Just a cold” we say).  We’re crashing every day at 2pm (time to hit the coffee pot).  We feel a little stiff in our joints in the morning (getting older, I guess).  Now and again we get a little headache, or heartburn, or cranky.

Aren’t you tired of the circus?

Why wait until January 1st?  Why not start the next meal?

I know.  It’s hard.  It’s about impossible.  Your brain will SCREAM at you to EAT.THAT.DOUGHNUT.NOW.  You won’t be able to help putting the bags of chips into the cart.  The produce department looks foreign and did you see the prices of grass-fed anything?

But you could change one thing.  One thing.  Maybe one tablespoon of syrup into your coffee instead of two.  Maybe bake your own cookies instead buying the franken ones from the store.  Maybe skip the jam and eat the whole fruit instead.

Maybe you pay for a pound of grass fed beef now, in exchange for the price you’ll pay otherwise at the pharmacy later.

And then, after a while of making small changes, it happens.

You actually will find kale tasty.  Your eyes will widen at the fresh figs at market.  You’ll see a loaf of bread and your brain will say, “eh”.  Butter will become your best friend and you won’t want soda for even a sip because, well, it plain tastes nasty now.  And there might be plenty of grass-fed, wild, pastured meats on the table.

Right now, every bite you take is making you healthier or sicker.  Every.Bite.

You know there are plenty of websites, books, podcasts.  You might feel lost in all of the information (even conflicting!) out there.  It’s ok.  Try something.  See how your body feels, how it reacts.  Just know that just about anything that smacks of wholesomeness and nutrient-density will make your body scream for a week (or three) like a two year old in a full-blown tantrum.

And you know what happens to toddlers if you just constantly give them what they want.  And you know we end up drugging them later.  Feed tantrums now=temper them with pharmaceuticals later.

Find a buddy to hold you accountable, to commiserate with.  Start (or continue) to blog about your ups and downs.  Journal.  Keep a food log.  Or, how about rip out a magazine picture of some kids and put it on the fridge with a pen marked over it: “FOR MY GRANDCHILDREN”.

Because, don’t you want to play with your grandchildren?  On the grass?  Throwing a ball?  Taking a hike? Swimming with them?

Or do you just want to watch from a walker? Too stiff in the morning to play hide-and-seek? Hacking up mucous at lunchtime?

Do you want to have gorgeous skin? Stand tall?

Or slump over your shoulders into a hunch? And have frown lines dipping to your chest?

Eating well makes for a clear mind, an energetic body, and dare I say, a better outlook on life in general.

You’re going to get older (have you noticed that already?).  How do you want to get there, into even “older”?  And what kind of body do you want to be in?

Start building it today.

What to Do While Floundering

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Or not.  This is what *I’ve* been doing.

 

Ever since we tried to sell our house and then took it off the dumpy market, I’ve been turning it all upside down and redecorating, repainting, replanting, re-re-re-thinking about how to make the house I was (and still am, in a sense) ready to walk away from, into my *home* again.   I decluttered multiple van loads to Goodwill and gained hundreds of dollars at garage sales, and started putting things into places that maybe were not “correct” but made me happy:  like putting up piles of folded QUILTS behind the glass cabinets in the KITCHEN because I never really liked all of that china I used maybe four times in the last two decades anyway.  Currently I’m looking for a ladder to hang in the kitchen on the ceiling. Why?  Because I want to hang my herbs from the rungs.  Gone are the thoughts of what looks like “it could sell” and finally settling in are thoughts of  “this is Keri Mae’s nest”.

 

Adding to that, my husband decided we needed a farm-ette break and although I dragged (and cried) a bit, I concurred.  The front garden is going away this fall and the livestock is slowly disappearing ala Craig’s List.  And because of predators we weren’t expecting and no one invited.  As everything goes, though, I can’t help but wonder:  What am I supposed to do now with five whole acres and empty barns?

 

I don’t know.  I guess that’s called floundering, that space in the “I don’t know” world.  What to do?  Have you ever been in that space of just not knowing what/where/how and when?

 

In the meantime, I am staying busy, even while floundering in the land of YoNoSe’.  I am using my recent energies towards furthering my herbal and natural health studies, and am continuing to put together emergency supplies and resources for my family (something I’ve wanted to do for a long time; I thank the Lord we haven’t had a reason to need any of that yet).  We got our will together (which we laugh about, because really, there’s nothing but an old 1995 Civic to pass along…).  I am still writing:  to myself, to friends, to dreams of publishing in the big marketplace of ideas.  I am art-ing, loving mixed media especially, and I’m reading easily thirty-plus books all at once.  Oh, and oh yeah, I’m still raising and homeschooling seven children–that takes some time too 🙂  More:  I’m under the care and supervision of a friend who is making me dress a little nicer with clothes that have no holes and that fit (thank you!), making time for massage, for tea breaks with friends, and inviting more people over to our house.

 

It’s still very active in these parts.  I just feel like my compass has moved and I’m not sure where the boat is going yet.  Maybe I’m floating, not floundering.

 

Anyhow.  Know what I mean?  Yes.

 

This is the rough mural drawing that two friends are going to paint onto my kitchen cabinets.  I wanted a dandelion for multiple reasons.  And why can’t I paint a mural across my kitchen cabinets (that are now green, by the way…)

 

kitchen cabinet mural

 

Here’s a little birthday card I made for a friend.  That was a fun thing to do, drawing and cutting and watercoloring one afternoon.  I hope she likes it.

 

birthday card

 

birthday card inside

 

I recently got a new toy.  The strap I got from Sassy Strap years ago when I was playing with my 35mm Nikon.  But now, oooh, I can join the digital age!

 

Canon 60D camera

 

Of course I don’t really know how to use it yet.  No worries, I have a 13 year old boy that is my personal IT guy.  So here is the first “Yes, I now have a DSLR camera and here is the standard what-I-had-for-breakfast shot.”  Grain-free pumpkin pancakes, sausage, egg omelette, and bulletproof coffee with whip (because everything tastes better with whip).  I loooooove bulletproof coffee; so creamy, so filling, so satisfying.  On the downsize, it sorta ruined coffee shops for me (it all tastes like pretty weak coffee-water to me now) but I guess that’s not too bad a thing on the pocketbook.  And yes indeed, everything tastes better with a Stampington magazine on the side.

 

breakfast

 

I guess, overall, floundering’s not so bad.  I wish I knew the road map, but the walk along the way isn’t so bad, and the opportunities for side roads and new things to experience and see are ever before me.  I’m sad about some of the changes we’re going through, but I’m not going to just sit on my hiney pining for what can’t be right now.  Moving forward, I trust God has already paved the way.

 

cat sleeping

 

Blessings,

Moms Need to Keep Learning, Too

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I know the exasperation of wanting to know how other stay-at-home mothers *do it* while they’re raising their children.  How does she write those books, sell handmade goodies online, sew up cute everythings, and then take all those amazing photos to blog about it all?  Well, more than once I’ve had the poignant aha moment of “oh, she sends her kids off on the bus every morning…”  But, I also know homeschooling mamas who are running businesses and training for marathons.  Far more often, though, I hear about “the wrong season” to do anything outside of homemaking and homeschooling and methinks that’s no good!  “Dying to self” does not mean stifling your own interests anymore than “doing your own passion” means spending every waking moment on everything but homemaking and homeschooling.

 

Do homeschooling mothers need to put aside all of their own interests so that they can more *fully engage* in educating their children?  What does that mean, anyway?  That instead of reading a nonfiction book on a topic of interest, we ought to spend that time preparing more flashcards?  One of the definitions of education in the 1828 Websters says it is discipline intended to “form the manners and habits of youth”. Well, if one of those intentions is to raise lifelong learners, then we must also pay heed to Luke 6:40   The disciple is not above his master: but every one that is perfect shall be as his master.  

 

It is good for children to know and see that their mama is always learning new things, that  she borrows arms-full of books from the library (and reads them).  I think it’s all right for a mama to have some of her own homework or crafting time and to know that she may be subject to goals and deadlines just like they are.  How can it be bad to see her try new things in the kitchen or garden or classroom or sporting arena?  For a mother to have her own interests and to see her cultivate her own hobbies: is this selfishness?

 

All I know is that keeping at least a little toe in the genre of where you think your gifts are will help keep you sane, and who doesn’t want a sane mother?

 

As for me, one of my loves has been (and is) learning about God’s healing herbs.  It began as a child, loving to sit in fields watching and listening to grass rustling and birds chittering.  In college one of my most favorite classes ever was a botany course on spring wildflowers, complete with hunting them down and keying them out.  Once the children came along I learned how to make teas, tinctures, salves, and so forth.  I took online classes and earned two degrees (BS and MS) in Holistic Nutrition, figuring out how to cook those amazing foods that came from the ground and not from a box.  Later I took a class on botanical illustration.   Today I’m learning through both Vintage Remedies and the American Herbalists Guild.

 

It was quite a hurdle for me to get there, mentally.  There was/is always something else I could be doing, for the “good of my family”.  What I’ve learned, however, is that spending some time cultivating my own interests ultimately does my family good.   If you’re struggling with taking the time for your own learning, you might want to listen to this podcast I did on that very topic, Room for You.   You also might like listening to an interview I did with an author about how she wrote a book (and a good one at that!) while raising small children, Pursuing Your Talents in the Season of Motherhood.

 

At the risk of turning this place into an art blog, here is something I did today between family responsibilities.  Ongoing learning as a mom is like that, here a little, there a little.  I decided I wanted to learn about burdock more, and so googled pictures and then drew and watercolored.  Then I incorporated words to remind me how this beautiful plant is used.  It’s not a large thing I did.  But it’s something.

 

Are you taking any time at all for your own interests?  I remember my mother doing much needlework throughout my growing up years, and what a treasure all of that handwork is now, especially because her hands have betrayed her as she has aged.  Don’t wait until your children are grown, until you think a “better season” comes along.  Snatch the time here and there.  Learn and live alongside your babies, and enrich all of your lives in the process.

 

 

 

 

 

Blessings,

Contemplative Bible Study Through Art

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Peace seems so hard to come by these days and I’m afraid it is not because we are so often victims of circumstances.  Rather, it is that we are volunteers.  We give up rest when the blank squares on our calendars clamor for events.  We add on activities upon activities, and burdens that are not fit.  We give up sleep and thereby trade in that time for bodily repair and rejuvenation.  We give up time and space in the kitchen to prepare quality food for the convenience of running to the store at the last minute (which, if you really think that through, isn’t so convenient).  We give up walking for driving, trading in sharpening our awareness and eyesight for grit and speed and flying gravel.

 

And sadly, we give up our Bible study because really, it’s easier to skim a little here and there (if at all), and just consume someone else’s study.

 

Don’t you want peace?  I long for a deep abiding peace in all of my days, in every circumstance.  It’s something I probably will never have this side of the veil, but still I hunger for it.

 

Studying the Bible is one of my greatest pleasures, the food that sustains me.  I find in depth word studies to be very filling and satisfying, but also in this time of raising seven children and living in my own messes and circumstances, they are too short and few.  Memory work is helpful, as I can meditate throughout the day on a particular passage or verse, turning it around in my heart and mind, even as I am pressing the gas pedal on the way to the grocer with chatty children behind me.

 

But I am finding yet another way to study, and that is through art.  Art:  you know, that thing we wish we did more with our kids.  That thing that we buy for them: crayons, paints, paper, scissors and glue….but where is our own personal shoebox of supplies?   Art-ing, as I call it, has really brought another dimension to my Bible study.  It is one thing to read and write and study….it is quite another to try to translate what I am learning into visual form.

 

Some ways I have learned and am learning:  keeping an art journal, sketching a passage of scripture.  Trying to distill what I am learning into one word, and then painting it (that one word will remind me of whole passages!).  Sketching and drawing and photographing things around me, because just quieting my mind enough to move a pencil or focus a lens helps to quiet my mind.  Handstitching or spinning wool is very meditative, and conducive to quieting.

 

Recently I picked up an old copy of My Utmost for His Highest at a used book store.  It is one of my most favorite devotionals.  I tore out some passages that were speaking to me, and created some mini-pictures, smalls, on canvases.  One I made for myself, the other two I made for friends that were brought to mind.  Creating these allowed me to contemplate the verses and to pray for people that were brought to mind as well.   It’s spring, so of course I needed flowers and lots of them in my pictures.

 

 

 

 

 

One ditch I must warn you about.  When you first find ways to quiet your mind and space, war will commence for your thinking.  All of the garbage and lies and anger and bitterness that you have stuffed will make its way out into your thinking.  You must battle them and dismantle them one at a time.  In time you will be able to let them come and then quietly counter them with scripture, sort of like looking at playing cards and then just noticing and putting them aside, ugliness and all.  The “ditch” is choosing to use that time to stir resentments, provoke more anger, rehash or remake conversations, and so forth.  It is quite like deciding to do a fast or a detox…when you first begin to give your body real food and clean water, it may go through healing crises on the way to rest and repair.  When you give your heart and mind time for quiet, you may have to deal with quite a bit of your own sin and muck on your way to peace.  Don’t stay in the ditch.  Keep your eyes looking to Jesus, and let Him burn off the dross.

 

I encourage you to try an outlet of art-ing in fostering contemplative Bible study.

 

May you be blessed!

 

You Don’t Have to DI(all)Y

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Acts 9:6  …Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?

 

 

It was a little too much for me, this small little post I came across.  It endeavored to teach me how to make *something* in my kitchen from scratch.  Now, I’m not even going to say what *it* was because probably someone in these parts will brighten and say, “Really?!” and run with it (that would be me….).  And it is not the idea of “running with it” that puts me over the edge.  It is the running-with-it-ALL.

 

I totally get that we can (and do) make our own laundry soap, cut hair, change tires, and sew aprons.  I also realize that yes, we probably could craft toothpicks out of the trees in our yard.  But if the DIY attitude succumbs into an all out anti-purchase, thanks-but-I’ll-do-it-m’self mentality, I’m afraid we may be sprinting like direction-less spazzes past the lovelier things of this world, one of which is God-given rest and yet another, the fellowship of and the need to deal with other people in their own talents and trades.  Furthermore, pressing on to learn new skills ought to be an outgrowth of need and interest, not anxiety and fear (like over a future that is firmly within the grasp and control of our Lord).  It also ought not to be some sick race to prove that we *can* do anything and everything because we’re just that smart (which begs the question…).

 

As an example, if you’re knee deep in diapers and postpartum blues, now is probably not the time to learn how to make sushi from scratch.  Or maybe it is, but you can’t also begin your ginormous journey into grinding wheat and baking bread from scratch at the same time.  Oh, and learn to pickle eggs, use a sewing machine and make up batches of homemade cleansers while painting your own kitchen cabinets.  Can I just plead with you to STOP?!

 

Learn to ask the question from Acts 9:6, “…Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?”  He who leads gently will never overburden you with guilt for all of the things you are not doing from scratch. In fact, He just may provide your household with the funds to buy (even in cheap plastic containers) things like ketchup.  He may say *no* to your desire to sew all of your children’s clothes, to raise your own turkeys, to wash and keep cloth diapers.  Our problem is that we can be far too self-assured in our own abilities and then ignore His *no* with “…but Lord!  I can (save money….make things look better….save time…sort of…..)….”  Or worse, “…but Lord!  I wannnnnt tooooo…..”  As if He didn’t know those things.   As if He didn’t have your and my very best interests at heart in absolutely all areas of life.

 

I gave up beekeeping.  I also gave up spinning wool, knitting, publishing a journal, raising my own meat poultry, and much more.  In return, the Lord gave me time to sink my toes in the warm sand at the beach while watching eagles overhead and children underfoot.  He allowed me space to play with watercolors and mixed media art (which in a past life I would have deemed a stupid and foolish waste of time…).   I gained minutes and moments to sip hot (store-bought) tea while listening to my children practice their music.  I even got to paint my kitchen cabinets.  And so on.  And it’s funny how when those extra things were pruned away (sometimes thankfully, sometimes painfully), I found myself in a quieter place to listen and to speak with my God.

 

I am still learning many things, but this is the best thing I’ve learned in the last few years and I just wanted to share it with you.

 

In case you didn’t know.  You don’t have to do it all.

 

Blessings,

 

How to Build Awareness

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I was talking with some friends yesterday about how our drive for getting things *done* sometimes makes our awareness of needs–and blessings–in front of us sorely lacking.  The problem is that as often as we push past cultivating awareness of our surroundings (and the people in them), that God-given sense of ours becomes dull.  Really, we ought to be sobered when something happens and we say in response and astonishment, “I had no idea….it was out of the blue…”  Most things are probably not in those categories at all.  Usually, there were inklings, if not downright pushes….but we lost our sense of awareness when we disparaged that to either hold up the almighty *check list* or to lose our minds into the ether of too much entertainment or gadgets.  Furthermore, we don’t trust our awareness of things anyway.  It’s not something we can photograph; it’s nebulous.  It’s not even something we can practice or meditate on for five minutes and then move on to our more (we think) rational part of our brain and day.

 

How aware are you?

 

Do you sense when something is awry with your marriage?  Your children?  Your pet dog?  Do you notice when the sparrows return, when the bread is leavened, when that guy at the market makes you feel just a wee bit creepy?

 

I think awareness is important to having a life made out of meaning, not just minutes.

 

Two things have helped me to build awareness in my own life, and continue to do so.  Maybe they would help you, too?

1.  My garden, and living in the woods.  I can sit fascinated by the breeze fluttering the alder leaves, casting shadows and light, sparkling in the sunshine.  I enjoy listening to the variety of birds that return in the spring, trying to name them, to own them in my heart.  Enjoying creation is one way to build awareness.

2.  My camera, sketchbook, and journal.  Trying to frame a photograph, trying to capture the feeling that evokes joy or peace or wonder…it can’t help but cause me to slow down, pay attention.  I find the same is true when I am photographing my kids.  Similarly, writing two or three pages in my journal causes me to dig deeper, to ponder and turn things over in my mind.  Sketching does the same, utilizing other areas of my brain, encouraging me to see differently.

 

So, how about a quick tour around my place?  These are some outside things I’ve noticed lately.  I bet if you grabbed your camera or sketchbook and took a walk around your house, you’d find things to wonder about and grow your sense of awareness too.

 

…around my kitchen garden….

 

 

 

…in the barnyard….

….and in the front pasture, a treehouse is going up…

I feel like I’ve been MIA in my blog lately, but I’m still here and hope to share more with you soon.  I see you, dear faithful (and persistent!) readers, and I miss you, too.

Blessings,

 

The Problem of Pinterest

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Pinterest has been a wonderful tool to organize all of the website pages and ideas I love.  I no longer have to remember sites, clutter up my bookmarks, or lose places when the internet goes down or I mindlessly close up the dozens of tabs waiting for that elusive time I call “later.”  Furthermore, I don’t have to write html code anymore to share my favorite links and ideas with you all; you can just come visit my own Pinterest boards.  (I’ll wait here…)

 

The problem of Pinterest, as I see it, is this.  It’s yet another distraction.  Another wonderful distraction, to be sure, enchanting and full of places to get lost in time.  And the problem with that (as you may know) is (at least) twofold.

 

One, it gives plenty of ready opportunities to practice self-control and putting to death coveting (over and over and over…).  You may think that’s a good thing to practice, but if you’re lamenting the ample amounts of “practice” you’ve been putting in lately, maybe it’s time to reconsider that habit.  Lamentation without repentance isn’t really lamentation; it’s barely a nod to an irksome conscience pricker.

 

And two, it can suffer you into never getting anything done!  All of those wonderful gardening ideas…..have you tried one in your own yard?  What about the 53 (or 530) craft ideas….have you made an effort to make the time and space to give any of them a go?  And why are you making spaghetti again when you’ve been pinning multiple alternative recipes to try? (Oh wait…that was me tonight…)

 

Oy, the distraction.  I even got distracted just going to the site to get the LINK (“oooh….look at that!…..).

 

Want to know the best way to get that wonderful site to *heel*?  Actually DO something with your hands (other than typing and swiping I mean).  I finally figured out that no matter how many kitchens on Pinterest I salivated over, mine was going to stay the same dreary brown light-sucking dark wood unless I drove to the paint store.  And so I did.  And I am working on a task I really do not like (painting) in order to get what I do like (a more cheery kitchen), rather than spending more time pinning (which I d0 like) rather than working (which I can gracefully bow out of anytime with the most flowery of excuses….like I just ran out of time or some such).

 

Benjamin Moore daphne green kitchen cabinets

 

And along those same lines (painting, I mean), I broke out the acrylics, the watercolors, the pens, pencils and papers and glues.  Sure, I’ve been doing that for years for my children, but this time it’s for ME.  All of those amazing artists I love….bless them, some of them offer online classes.  All of that art I love: mixed media, watercolors, art journaling…..classes abound and lots of them are FREE.  I surely don’t expect anyone to pin my artwork, but you know what, I have my own artwork! That is new as spring to me and as fresh as honey scented falling April rain (we get that here, the honey-scented spring that is).

 

acrylic paints art journaling

 

Don’t laugh at my ducky.  I think he’s adorable 🙂

 

spring duckling watercolors art journaling

 

I don’t have a lot of time for these sorts of extras.  Homeschooling, homemaking mamas usually don’t.  But grabbing even a couple of hours a week, whether it is in 15 minute chunks every day or all at once one day a week…you, too, could pick at doing something Pinterest-worthy.  You, too, could grab that skirt pattern you pinned and start preparing fabric….or learn to photoshop some photos…or buy a box of pansies to put into something burlappy….

 

And please remember that places like Pinterest have a zillion people on them, and you are but one.  No one does everything.  But one person taking even the smallest step towards creating or bettering or making or crafting or planting or sewing…that person will have something beautiful to offer the world as well, even if it’s nothing advertised but the outward peace that comes with time better managed and a gratitude that grows from a contented heart.

 

Now, about all of these scraps I’ve been gathering…

 

scraps crazy quilt

Blessings,

You Can’t Do It All…Or Can You?

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You can’t do it all.  Or so they say.  But what is the “all” that “it” entails?

 

Defining priorities seems to be a constant challenge in our culture and time.  With so many choices at our fingertips and roads to take under our wheels, it is akin to an eternal buffet that our eyes and hearts can feast upon, “I want it all!”

 

And therein lies the rub.  It is not the “all”.  It is the “want.”

 

For the Christian woman, the to do list is clear.

 

Love the Lord your God.

Honor your marriage.

Train up your children.

Keep your house.

 

It can be translated daily in acts such as:

 

Have you read the Word, prayed today?

Did you give an encouraging word to your husband?

Did your child do the task assigned?

What’s for supper?

 

Do these things seem light?  They are.

 

Matthew 11:30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

 

Too often my actions deem those things unimportant as I either cultivate or deal with frustration (and bitterness) over the lack of opportunity or progress in other areas.  And then I say, “Well, I can’t do it all.”

 

And those primary things, those that make up the lighter burden, are cast aside for heavier weights.  Because my heart wants all the shiny things the world deems urgent and important and sweet, and there is only so much room in my day.

 

I didn’t say I was smart.

 

But I am learning.  I can’t do it all.  And, for that matter, nor should I.

 

I want to desire and love the humble, lighter burden more.  Somehow, I think carrying that load first will not only keep my feet light enough to follow the Lord in peace, but it will strengthen me for the rocks I may still want to pick up along the way.

Can Mothers Adore Thee Un-Joyful?

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Well, I think I’m as ready as I’m gonna be.  The cards are getting sent out late, but I have a little something for each child to unwrap on Christmas day and that makes me feel “ready”.  But I’m having a hard time with remembering mamas all over the world that not only have no gift to bring, but no child to gift it to.  I wonder how those mothers in Connecticut are doing….and those mothers in gang infested cities whose children are wooed into drug culture…and those mothers in Africa with nothing in the pot to stir to bring to their baby’s lips…and those mothers whose children are kidnapped, sold into slavery or killed by fanatics….and those mothers who feel their only recourse is to either expose their babies to the elements or to dump them into institutions where a meal might be served, but hugs and love will be lacking.  I’m thinking of mothers who deal every day with children with special needs, with children who are mentally unstable, with children whose hearts are either terminally diseased or eternally hard.  I am grieved for governments that terminate parental rights and otherwise break down the foundations of family.  I am sad for mothers whose babies were either killed or died before getting to be held in arms.  It’s the mothers I’m thinking of these days.

 

I know Jesus loves the little children.  Won’t He love their mothers, too?  Even if they are feeling unjoyful?  And, if joylessness is sucking mamas into a dark hole, will their lack of adoration cast them deeper into the shadows?  He who seeks for the lost sheep, won’t He reach into the pit for these mothers as well, who have no strength to look up?

 

I do believe that God in His goodness will bring about something redeeming from this madness that pains mothers because He ALREADY DID.  All of this sorrow, this heartbreak, this evil in the hearts of men (and , face it, of mamas too) and the decaying of society and family and His beautiful world…THIS is WHY He came in the first place.  And though the world still spins (His mercy and common grace keeps it so today), He has already pledged by His resurrection that He will return to set things aright once and for all eternity, and every mama that has repented of her own sins and put her faith in Jesus Christ will see on the other side of the veil the perfect results of the most vile sins because God will use them all for His glory and our good.  Somehow.

 

And don’t we long for Him more when in the mess?  And don’t we long to see justice done?  And don’t we lose even more of our love for this world and become more heavenly minded?  And…if Jesus *does* love the little children…are we not a little comforted that those children will never, ever, ever see or know pain ever, ever again?  To be with God…what could possibly be better?  And what a reunion that will be when mortal mothers meet their Maker as well.  Will their awaiting children run to their arms?  Will there be joy unspeakable?

 

But it hurts on this side of goodbye.  And while I long to bring a shoulder to every hurting mama, I can at least offer it to the ones near me.  The ones who have lost babies.  Stillbirths.  Miscarriages.  Run over. The ones who pain through trials with their babies.  Mental illnesses.  Physical diseases.  Wayward.

 

Maybe joy for these mamas comes not in the pain, but through the pain, where at the other end a new light dawns and a new mercy comes.   Maybe HOPE is the new joy.  Christmas is the response to the pain.  Easter is the cure.   (And no, I’m not just sharing this video because of the girl with Down Syndrome signing in it).

 

 

If your heart is hurting, may the Holy Spirit bring you a holy joy the world knows nothing of.  May your mama’s heart know His love, and may you put your trust in Jesus Christ this Christmas.  From one mother to another, O come, let us adore Him.

The Mid-Fall Homeschooling Slump

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To be a schoolmaster is next to being a king.  Do you count it a mean employment to imbue the minds of your fellow citizens in their earnest years with the best literature and with the love of Christ, and to return them to their country honest and virtuous men?  In the opinion of fools, it is a humble task, but in fact it is the no lest of occupations.

Desiderius Erasmus, Dutch scholar and theologian

 

The end of October and I am wondering how many homeschooling mamas are already hanging their heads in their hands, wondering (again) what they are doing wrong, why their children aren’t progressing anywhere near the incredible standards of the 1800’s, how in the world they ended up with (apparently) the wrong curriculum (again), and trying to remember and convince themselves that yes, homeschooling was the right choice and no, they aren’t complete failures because supper was late (again) because they were busy that day trying to teach place values to their first grader while overseeing sentence diagramming with their high schooler while the baby was nursing while (fill in the blank…inhale….).

 

Any resemblance to myself is a coincidence.

 

This mid-fall slump is typical for most educators I know.  When I was a public school teacher, by the time the leaves were falling off the trees we were already gathered in lunch rooms and in inservice trainings discussing the areas that just weren’t up to what we had hoped for when we were planning with fresh starry eyes before Labor Day.  By the end of October, we were reassessing everything and trying (or not) to make the necessary changes.  We were holding parent conferences which really weren’t about working with parents (because if that were the case, we ought to have met long beforehand), but about reporting to them.  We had our easy students (the ones who loved learning what anyone was teaching) and we had our challenges (the ones who figured our weak spots and capitalized on them).  A lot of our hopes by then were tarnished by the reality of dozens of students to keep track of or of politics (and magazing-selling assemblies) that got in the way of teaching.

 

Why am I telling you that?  Because I don’t want you to grow weary, to think that Someone Else would necessarily teach your child better than you.  What we as school teachers didn’t have, and I say this plainly, was a real, invested interest.  So although that mid-fall slump was there, it was dealt with (or not), we got over it and just started counting the days to Christmas vacation winter break.

 

I’m not saying we didn’t care about these students.  Sure, we did.  That’s why most of us were teaching; we had a love for education and for children!  BUT….for better or worse, these students were not our kids.  We may have been happy when kids did well and disappointed when they didn’t, but they weren’t our kids. If a child wasn’t getting the multiplication tables down by the end of the sixth week, we weren’t really losing any sleep over it because the next teacher would deal with that.  Or so we hoped.

 

Homeschooling is difficult sometimes because we mamas ARE “the next teacher”.  Furthermore, there is no one else that loves our children more than we do so our investment runs deep.  No one else gets that deep-down-to-the-pit-of-our souls desire to see the light bulb go on for 3×7=21.  That’s one of the reasons why we homeschool.  And that’s also why when we don’t hit the bar (that we have either had set for us or set for ourselves) it feels like the dumps, especially when it feels like  the “school year” just got started.

 

Sometimes it’s good to look in the rearview mirror, to see how far our children have come.   And I don’t know about you, but I have the required-by-state-law proof-in-the-pudding that they’re at least kicking some hiney.

 

Sometimes the reason why everything’s on the back burner is because the roof’s fallen in someplace.  Someone died.  There was a divorce.  Grandma moved in.  Dad lost his job.

 

Sometimes it is just a good time to reassess and problem solve.  Maybe you need to use your crockpot more.  Maybe you need to actually put together a schedule.  Maybe you need to ask the Lord for guidance.  Maybe your commitment isn’t where it needs to be.  Maybe you need to say “no” to more outside activities.

 

Whatever the case,  it’s also good to remind ourselves that regardless of academic standing, what we’re investing in is largely unseen.  We are building the heart.

 

A heart for God and a love of Christ.  A heart for family, built through the everyday messiness of living with real messy people in real messy homes.  A heart for healthy foods, healthy exercise, healthy play.  A heart for wholesomeness and a real childhood.  A heart for work, for dreaming, for discipline and for community.  Cultivating the heart is what matters the most.  Don’t press so hard to “succeed”, to work that curriculum, that you discourage their hearts (and yours).

 

If you’re in that mid-fall homeschooling slump, be of good courage.  It is better than being a queen to be able to homeschool and hand a pencil to your own child with true motherly love.  Let’s enjoy our babies and give gratitude to the Lord for the liberty to school them at home, trusting Him for the results as we by faith just do the next step that we know how.

 

Now our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God, even our Father, which hath loved us, and hath given us everlasting consolation and good hope through grace,  Comfort your hearts, and stablish you in every good word and work. 

 2 Thessalonians 2:16-17

Have a lovely week homeschooling.

 

Narrowing

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Genesis 5:22   And Enoch walked with God…

I’ve had a difficult time with blogging lately, sort of feeling a bit dried up if you will.  I think of pictures I want to share, but I don’t want to take the time to download, edit, upload, and publish.  I think of some good insights I want to work through with you, but sometimes it is hard to do that, this sharing with the anonymous reader (or two).  Because really, what I want to know is, how are you?  But this is a blog…so here are some photos I prepared and here is some pondering (smile).

I recently read a very good article entitled, “What Captures Your Attention Controls Your Life.”  And I’m wondering a lot, what is it that captures my attention, and is that thing or idea or person or place or dream worthy of the attention it is getting?  I really feel like my time is a gift from the Lord, and it is finite.  Am I spending it wisely?  Most of the time I lament miserably over not being better disciplined about (fill in the blank), but remembering that my strength is made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9) I do find cause and reason to rejoice even in the things that point out my failure or difficulty or disappointment. But I want to strive for the better things, the more excellent way.  I also wonder, how are you doing? Are you controlled in the things that clamor for your attention?  Are you intentional about where you spend your time? Are you too easily distracted from what you claim is more important?  If you’re at peace with your time, you’re the one I want to spend tea time with (if you have time, ha).

One pastor remarked, regarding the article, that he remembered as a child what captured his grandmother’s attention was the “black book” she was always so engrossed with.  Some days I am shamefully more concerned about checking my e-mail (there might be something new or a response I’m waiting upon) rather than God’s Word (which always has something new and every response I need).  No wonder I am feeling dull in the head.  What about you? How are you doing? Are you staying in the Word?  Are you striving, pressing toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus (Philippians 3:14)?

Our day of distractions is a challenge, isn’t it?  But I can’t blame my circumstances nor my environment.  Truly, if even the Bible gave me a little musical *ding!* on a regular basis, would I want to open it more?

Also. Sometimes I have blog-pinterest-envy (this is my blog and I can dump, right?).  You know, poking around and seeing all of the amazing things other women are doing; discounting of course anything of value that I myself may be doing.  My little vase of flowers picked from the weeds in the front yard by sticky little hands and plucked into a mason jar just doesn’t seem to match the sweet buttery blurry romantic Photoshopped bouquet on an old farmhouse table artful arranged (only to look wildly thrown about) in a French enamel container that cost $75 to purchase.  And the poetry; some bloggers are amazing writers!  Oh to have the luxury of crafting such words; talent yes, but most writers will admit readily to sweat and sheets of crumpled paper bore through with eraser holes.  Oh, and the nature journaling and drawing and handwork and magnificent baked cakes that would charm Queen Elizabeth herself.

But I did come across this statement which revealed to me how some other mothers have the time and talent to surf the waves of Blogsville or Etsywood with their hair not mussed, and it was this: “I then get the children ready and take (child) to school and (other child) to his child minder.”

Oh. There’s the rub.  I really can’t do it all.  And if you have your children at home with you, you can’t either (unless you want to damage the relationship you have with your babies, to which I say, what’s the point of keeping them home then?).   So decide.  Crafts or cradle-rocking.  Blogs or bubble baths.  I-pod or We-read (a book).  Black book or black phone.  Choose this day whom you want to serve, and how you want to walk.  Keeping children home is a sacrifice.  So is sending them away.  Which sacrifice are you willing to make? And can you (can I?) make it without the pitiful sigh going along with it?

Enoch’s name means “narrowing”.  To walk with God means to choose the narrow way.  If what captures your attention really controls your life, it might be worthwhile to consider your ways and to examine your walk.  You may find your choices have been too broad, and pruning needs doing.  Like for me, this blog:  how do I prune it back?  Does it need pruning? A chop?  Six years later, do I still need it?

And now is when I stop rambling and share some garden photos I’ve been saving.  Enjoy them.  If you were here, I’d offer you a cup of tea (and maybe some baked biscotti unless I was reading Curious George during baking time) and conversation and I might send you home with bunches of herbs from my garden if you wanted them.  And maybe we could really talk about what it means to walk with God, and why we are not as enthralled with HIM as we ought and what we might change or do about it.  If what captures our attention really controls our lives, then don’t we really want that to be….God?

Ponder with me as we walk.

 

 

 

Grow, and prune as necessary,

Birthing Projects

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Well, here I am late in the evening on my due date without more than a baby hiccup and once again I am reminded how much I hate “due dates”.  What evil wrought about that dumb little circle thingy that puts THE date as when baby should arrive?  Once again, I’m on the side of “you’re still here?” and once again, I tell folks that it’s all right, I’m “always late”.  And I tell my children, when they greet me disappointed in the morning (“not yet, huh, Mom?”), is “Well…we’re one day closer!”  So I continue, albeit slowly, baking, doing laundry, homeschooling.  I’m grateful for children who rush to perform other household chores when I am wilting. I’m grateful to be home.  I’m grateful for friends who stop by unannounced with chocolate and flowers too (thank you!).

I’ve been working and waiting on another birth as well, a large project that I wrote about here.  I have the vision, the tools, the people and the plan.  What I also have is some good, Godly advice to slow down.  I appreciate it when a friend takes the time to humbly ask me hard questions.  What I’ve been working through is this:  how do I know the difference between God’s will and what God allows?  

Now, I know God doesn’t allow what is not His will to allow to occur (follow me?).  But if He blesses me with all of the scaffolding of this project, how do I know it’s in my best interest to build it?  Maybe it’s just a test?  When the Israelites got their wish for a king and God told them who it would be (in essence, the one HE picked), was it really His will that they have that king?  If my project is a roaring success, what cost will it have extracted to get there?

I need to stay congruent with my true self.  For example, this wonderful project I am working on will put me behind a computer more, and my dear friends, as some of you already know, there is much I dislike about that.  I’d rather be behind a real papered book, or braiding my girls’ hair, or digging in the dirt, or talking to my goats.  Slowing down sounds like the right thing to do on many levels.

One thing that has blessed me in this process has been getting small peeks into other women’s lives.  Sometimes I see how much they accomplish (seemingly) and I struggle with how come I can’t do all that?  But usually the answer comes softly:  they just plain have different priorities, or they send children off to school or to daycare, or they spend hours (hours!) on Skype meetings, or they don’t have a farm-ette to maintain, or (shamefully) they are simply not honest.  In other words, their lives are lived differently than mine and all I’m looking at are the parts I want.  Would I want to change my life, my living?  I can honestly say mostly “no” even when it means the other things I desire to do may have to wait.

So both birthing projects continue, in their own timing.  The baby will come when the Lord’s voice calls.  And this wonderful Journal will publish when His timing is right, too. If you’d like to be a part of the Journal, and you desire the sweet slowness of patience, please know you are invited to contribute.  As for me, I am going to continue to wait upon the Lord, trusting Him to lead me in all things.  It is a good place to sit, patiently waiting to see what hatches.

 

Teaching the True Meaning of Easter

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Easter is just a few weeks away and amongst the new dresses and chocolates there seems to remains hidden even among professing Christians the wisdom and truth of the Gospel itself.  If all we know is “Jesus died for my sins” and then all we have a little prayer that we parroted in response, then I’m afraid we are in grave danger of missing Jesus Himself.  The teaching in Luke ought to be sobering and worthy of our time and reflection.

Luke 13:23-27 Then said one unto him, Lord, are there few that be saved? And he said unto them,  Strive to enter in at the strait gate: for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be able. When once the master of the house is risen up, and hath shut to the door, and ye begin to stand without, and to knock at the door, saying, Lord, Lord, open unto us; and he shall answer and say unto you, I know you not whence ye are.

Then shall ye begin to say, We have eaten and drunk in thy presence, and thou hast taught in our streets. But he shall say, I tell you, I know you not whence ye are; depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity.

The “strait gate” seems so, well, straight. Narrow. Intolerant, if you will. But as you can see, it matters not when you, after death, meet Him whether you knew about Him, professed Him, did works in His name, went to church twice or even 114 times a year, were “a good person” or even at that point beg for His forgiveness.  He will send you out from His presence, and because God’s Word is true, there is no shame in warning and trying to save people from the judgment that He promises will come.

Pass the chocolate eggs then, and let’s talk then about how to teach our kids, our precious children, the true meaning of Easter.

Hear the Gospel

You cannot teach your children what Easter is truly about if you, yourself, have never heard the true Gospel preached. I’m afraid many, many churches and pastors spend lots of time teaching about godly living, about loving your neighbor, about how to become more prosperous…but never share about repentance and faith. The word “sin” has dropped from the vocabulary and has been replaced with a self-righteousness that demands God’s acknowledgment that “well, we aren’t perfect, I try, He knows we’re only human…”

Examine yourself. Watch the video at the end of this blog post for a worthy time to set aside to do so. Otherwise, you may be sending your children into the same ditch of good works and pride, which will never open that narrow gate into heaven no matter how fervently or sincerely you believe otherwise.

Acknowledge the Gospel

If you have ever been or are in despair over your own sins, then congratulations. God has revealed to you in His mercy how wretched, how blasphemous, how unkind and unloving you really are. You cry out like the psalmist,

Help me, O LORD my God: O save me according to thy mercy…

because you acknowledge that not only are you a sinner, but it’s even worse than you believe. You know you are a liar, a thief. You are like the young tax collector in Luke 18:10-14, contrasted with the Pharisee who stood upon his own works and his own “truth”.

Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican.  I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess.  And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner.   I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other: for every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.

The Gospel does offend us (because we are so pride filled!) To acknowledge the Gospel is to REPENT. And the Christian life is a life of REPENTANCE. And it is putting your trust in the finished work of Jesus Christ, who, dying on that cross at Easter time paid the fine for your sins so you may be free, indeed.  It is loving your enemy and tithing and all else in gratitude for so great a salvation, not to try to bribe the Judge to overlook all the “minor” sins you’ve committed that “aren’t as bad as some people.”  As I heard a pastor once say, you can’t have a real mercy, a real “Amazing Grace”, without a real wrath before it. Have you ever humbled yourself in light of your own sins, ever really repented?

If you cannot acknowledge the Gospel, your children will grow up under you in their own pride as well. And Easter will only be about pastel colors and spring and the cliches we see all over our world.

Profess the Gospel

Do you want to teach your children the true meaning of Easter?  Well, then you must tell them! You must show them from God’s Word why Christmas and Easter were necessary, why the Old Testament pointed to Jesus Christ in every book, why even Creation and their very own consciences cry out that there is a good and holy and righteous God who is not only angry with the wicked every day (the unrepentant), but is rich in mercy towards the humble who repent and put their trust in Him.

Telling this to your children is not the job of the church, the Sunday school, the cute little cartoony kid’s story Bible, or even the pastor. It is YOUR job.  Their response will be their response; they are individuals and will either come under their own convictions or not as God wills.  But God forbid we “keep our religion to ourselves” as if we really didn’t believe the Truth at all.

Live the Gospel

Lastly, you must live the Gospel. You must apologize to your children when you’re wrong. You must quietly go about your own business and seek to honor God even under your own roof. Let them see you wrangle with Scripture, pray often, and in making decisions know you are at least trying to operate out of Biblical principles.  Remind them of grace, and live that out or you will only create little moralists whose food is the pride of life.  Speak of your love of God, how grateful you are that He saved a wretch like you, how you were blind but now you see.  Let them see you humble yourself to treat your enemies with goodness and service, and let them know the law of kindness from your tongue.  Let them know that yes, we war against the flesh and our sins still, but we are saved by God’s grace and can live in peace and quietness in the shadow of His wings.

Are you ready for Easter? Examine and prepare your own heart first with the true Gospel of salvation, and then you will be empowered to tell your children its true meaning. You’ll be better able to understand the deep love and wide mercy of God’s Redemption, and truly worship Him that sunrise morning His victory over the grave.

You can check out the other High Five Mom blogs in the next few days with their ideas on teaching the true meaning of Easter.

Blessings,

The Pitfall and Practice of Lent

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Psalms 116:7-9  Return unto thy rest, O my soul; for the LORD hath dealt bountifully with thee.   For thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling. 
  
I will walk before the LORD in the land of the living. 


I’ve been slowly and quietly working through the book of Galations.  It is here where Paul sternly rebukes those who are adding works to the gospel, as though the cross and resurrection were not enough in themselves to justify the sinner and remove the wrath of God as far as the east is from the west.  This book needs to be preached even today, as the “to do” list seems to be ever growing if you want to be a “serious” Christian, those whom are concerned about holiness and walking closely with the Lord.  Seems rather silly to me, really, this idea of degrees of proper following.  Also seems to me if a person is truly saved, they ARE serious about serving the Lord, and they already do so to the best of their ability out of gratitude.  Why do we need to impose an expectation or checklist of works?  I touched on this earlier in this post. 


I’m afraid that is one of the pitfalls of Lent or of any other season of self-examination.  We gauge our walk by how far we need to go, how much we’ve left undone, how we fall short of expectations (from, you know, that amalgam of “everybody”).  We make plans for what we’re going to give up, try harder at, conquer.  What we need to do, methinks if you want to *do* anything, is consider the gospel first and foremost:  remembering, refreshing, and returning to the rest that the Lord has already given.   


It doesn’t mean He won’t discipline, stretch, or challenge you to cultivate a more meaningful walk (according to His standards).  It doesn’t mean He won’t press it upon you to learn to pray, or to share the gospel, or to seek restitution with the brother that has something against you.  But these things, these habits, will naturally come forth as you believe on Him.  And believing on Him IS the “work”.  So, again, preach the gospel to yourself first.  And listen.


I thought I’d share with you how I am spending my time before Easter.  I decided to really pull back and unplug a bit.  I’m not tweeting, and I’m keeping my cell phone turned off while at home.  I’m not keeping up on any blogs or websites either.  It’s been…..rather quiet.  All I can do on the computer now is pop it open, delete 7-8 emails, answer a couple, work on a blog post….and then get off of the internet.  It’s almost…boring.  But I am needing boring.  I am needing that a lot right now.


Instead I am using my computer time to write more.  And I am playing with and learning Photoshop (now that takes brain power!).  So, enjoy some newbie Photoshop photos in this post as I share some of my late winter activities.


I continue to putz around the house, rearranging things, decluttering, moving furniture, painting.  I’m sure this will only get worse as I get closer to having the baby (watch out, “nesting instinct”!).  I’m enjoying breaking some “rules”, like the silver we got as a gift that’s supposed to be hand-washed (been throwing them in the dishwasher), polished (haven’t for years) and never, ever used unless the queen of England is having tea.  Forget that.  I even took them out of the drawer and put them on top of my counter, nestled in a handwoven tea towel.  Does this qualify for “shabby chic”?



This is the stack of books and magazines and art supplies that are pulling me into my art journal more.  I am learning how to journal my life with pictures, not just words.  It’s a rather enjoyable practice, one that cannot really be rushed.  And I so don’t want my life to be rushed.

But the reason I am not drawing more than I would like is because I am racing to finish a new quilt before the baby arrives.  It’s not a baby quilt; it’s more like something to accomplish before he or she comes.  Or before I get too big and uncomfortable to sew any longer.  Currently I can manage an hour at a time.  I’ve been listening to sermons or music or to Wretched Radio while in my craft room.

When I can’t manage being upright anymore, I lay down and read books.  I have plenty of free downloads on my Kindle, but even so, I find I enjoy real paper more.  I am reading novels, biographies, books on home organization, Christian books, and plenty of how-to’s.  One book that I am enjoying right now, and rereading a lot, is A Gospel Primer for Christians: Learning to See the Glories of God’s Love.  It’s a wonderful short little book that really helps in cultivating the habit of preaching the gospel every day.  Did I mention how important that was?

If I’m resting and not reading or homeschooling, I am catching up on correspondence.  I love getting and writing real mail.  It’s hard to be snarky or angry or defensive when writing a letter by hand…unlike composing an email (or a tweet!) that gets sent way too fast before the spirit has a chance to subdue the heart.  No, give me a pile of stationery and a fountain pen and some pretty stamps instead.
Outside, we’ve been planning to finish the barn this summer, and to expand the boundaries for our dairy goats.  Buds are already starting to open all over the place.  And I’ve been consulting with a landscaper to see if we can afford to get some professional help around here.  Here’s hoping.

Seeds have been started for the upcoming garden, too.  If all goes well, they will be planted out in the kitchen garden middle of May.

Recently we had a beautiful sunshiny day and I announced to the children that we had to go buy some pansies and violets.  Our wet and green (with moss) back porch was crying out for some color.  So we piled into the van and brought home enough flowers to pretty up the view.

We still collect eggs every morning, and they are a work of wonder, one of the most perfect foods, and so gorgeous to look at, besides.  This, this, makes me feel like a wealthy woman!

I’m not the only one expecting a baby.  Our kinder does are expecting also, and are due to kid in May.  I’ve been thinking about supplies I need to purchase, and how to create a plan for management that will suit our family.

And, yes, I’m still growing!  Seven more weeks (or likely, more!) to go.  That means I also need to get prepared:  checking on what cloth diapers I have, buying some fresh onesies, and sewing up some simple swaddling blankies.  I’m also tincturing herbs and preparing for teas and other things I like to have on hand.  I don’t think I’ll need much more than those things; keeping it all simple.  It’s one of the joys of being an older, experienced mother.

So that is what I am up to these days.  I hope you are enjoying the last of winter as well in your own beautiful life.  Do you see the beauty of your own home and family?  Or do you need to pause as well, and take the time to look?
If you really want a couple of things to *do* for Lent (knowing of course that there is no law to do anything at all), I would encourage you to do two things. 
One, examine yourself and your faith, especially if you consider yourself a Christian.  Too many people call themselves such, but are not.  Examining yourself is, traditionally, the point of Lent.  I know this audio is an hour long.  I know if you’re anything like me, you’d rather just skim everything on the computer, multi-task, and even if you hit “play”,  go check your email while “listening”.  But truly…..this is an eternal matter.  Take the one hour out of your vapor life and pay close attention to examining yourself.  It will be either convicting or reassuring.  And what you do with that matters.

Two, consider unplugging a bit.  Set a limit on computer time, or leave off Facebook until Easter, or turn the phone off during homeschooling, or take a TV fast.  Whatever “unplugging” looks like for you, you might find it a time of refreshment, refocusing, and renewal.  You might find more time to meet with a friend for coffee, one on one. You might even find you have time for a daily walk.  And when you do, maybe you too, will notice that the seed pods have just begun to fall.  And you might, in some way, find a way to return to rest, and to ponder what it means to walk in the land of the living.  The Lord has dealt bountifully with you and me both; that’s reason enough to pause to think on Him a little bit more. Amen?

Blessings,

Families, Food, and Faith

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Most moms want their families to eat well, because they recognize wholesome food creates the building blocks for good immune function, amongst other things.  Too many times I think we ascribe the “common cold” (for example) as a matter of germs, when in fact, it could just be an overloaded little (or big) body trying to detoxify all of the crud created from poor food choices.  Furthermore, eating is a cultural and social act as well, and we eat for the pleasure of fellowshipping with others, too.  So “eating well” also means enjoying what someone else has lovingly served.

So how does a mom successfully teach their children to eat well?  Or how does she encourage her husband to do so?

Mom, it starts with you!

  • Educate yourself about what real, healthy eating entails, especially if you grew up as a picky eater, or grew up on canned, processed foods.  I would especially examine what you believe qualifies as “healthy” if you have had, or have, any dental problems at all.  A good place to start would be to poke around the Weston A Price Foundation site. 
  • Demonstrate your own willingness to try new foods and new methods of cooking.  Make it an adventure! Come home with something new from the grocery store.  Demonstrate humility in examining your beliefs and your habits.  Ask questions.  Learn.
  • Implement regular mealtimes.  No matter how “organized” you are (or aren’t), you and your family do need to eat.  Give yourself enough time to create a wholesome meal, and create an environment of reconnecting with one another without the distractions of TV screens or texts or telephones (etc).  Again, eating isn’t just about food; it’s about relationships.
But, Mom, it’s not all about you!
  • Understand that every person is different, and beware the “just do x and y will occur.”  What works for one mom in feeding her family healthy food might not work for you, and some folks are just more into maintaining control over everything than making any changes at all (think about your wee ones and teaching potty, or regular napping….).  Better to work to win their hearts than to fight over broccoli.  Better a supper of herbs and peace than a roast and irritations, right?
  • Train your children that what you’ve taken the time to cook and serve…is what is served.  This is not about being a martyr (who is willing to cook four different meals to please four different kids).  It’s not about your comfort level, of taking the easy road to just avoid confrontation.  It’s not about YOU. It’s about having the courage to teach your child that eating or at least tasting what is served, regardless of what it is, is a matter of respect and gratitude for the cook. Teach this well and hopefully you won’t have grandchildren that demand chicken nuggets three meals a day.
What to do:

There are a lot of things you can do to try to win your family over to better eating, from changing your own habits, to changing things one at a time, to sneaking healthier foods into fare you already eat, to having them help prepare it, or decorating it in some interesting and pleasant way.  But, honestly, if you don’t want to fall into the “I’ve tried everything and nothing has worked” trap, there is the one thing to do that should be first:

pray.
Your Father in heaven knows the best route to creating healthy eating habits in your family. He knows you and your children best and will give you the wisdom if you just ask it of Him.  Don’t you think He wants your children to grow up healthy and strong?  And for you and your husband to be healthier? And for you to be knowledgable and equipped to feed them those good, wholesome foods?  What Bible verse refutes these things?
James 1:5   If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him. 

And don’t we all want pure, peaceable, and gentle answers (see James 3:17) to all of our challenges, answers that have real, lasting results?  Answers that will draw our children’s hearts towards us, and more importantly, towards their God?  I’m afraid if all we’ve gotten are irritations and food battles, then we’ve probably brought it upon ourselves in some way.  If you’ve repented and put your faith in Jesus, then this is just one more area to live by faith: pray and ask for help!


May your homes (and mealtimes!) be full of goodness and peace.

You can check out the other High Five Mom blogs in the next few days with their ideas on feeding their families healthy foods.

Happy (and healthy!) eating,

A Day in My Life, Part 3

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If you missed it, you can catch part one here, and part two here.

Late Afternoon to Evening

I manage to put my feet up and knit two rows for my baby’s blanket, while the children are cleaning up after lunch and finishing their music lessons and artwork.  This is how this blanket is progressing:  two rows at a time.  I am not an accomplished knitter.  I don’t even consider myself a “good” knitter.  I have to completely pay attention to every stitch, and after two rows my mind starts to wander and I’m too inexperienced to zone out and just let my hands work.  But, even with two rows at a time…progress is made.  It is a good reminder to me, how forward motion or any change is accomplished:  by degrees, by steps, by plodding.  Sometimes it just takes two rows at a time.

I give a writing lesson to my friend’s daughter, listening to her read her excellent writing, and then do a dictation.  I help her with her new composition’s outline, and instruct her in some areas.  We use Classical Writing and love the program.  It combines very, very well with Spell to Write and Read and to the foundation we have from Institute for Excellence in Writing.   I count my blessings to have such rich curriculum helps, and I am slowly (“two rows at a time”) finding and repairing the gaps I have in my own education.  
Our friends leave, and we go through the comical routine of what did they leave behind this time? (books, jackets, and even her toddler’s peepee pants!).  We set them all by the mudroom door.  And yes, I plan to launder the pants!
I sit for a bit, catching up on some email and Twitter.  I peruse the book loaned by a friend, Goat Song, and besides sighing over such lovely writing, begin taking notes for what I’ll need when my own goats kid in May and mark items in the Hoegger’s catalog.  Plus the book has given me new words to look up.  Words like flehman response, and kulning.  I catch up on paperwork for the Kinder Goats Breeders Association, and make sure my files are in order, too.
I’m tired at this point, but hunger wins over and I begin to prepare for supper. I cut up the last of my winter squash, an interesting variety of pumpkin, and put it to bake for mash.  I find leftover steaks we cooked up and turn them into steak bites, coating them with flour and seasoning to fry up for our supper.  I ponder making gravy.  Salad is prepared, and I glance at the clock.  It is close to 6:00 already, and I invite the music teacher to stay for supper, not knowing how the meal will stretch but trusting God to multiply it all.  I leave everything ready to quickly assemble while music lessons finish up, lie down to read a book to my 7 year old, and finally give in to a twenty minute cat nap.
My day ends with supper, and I begin to reset my mind for the ‘morrow.  I eye the starter on the counter and plan to make pizza dough for tomorrow.  I plan my bath (epson salts with lavender) and think about 
projects waiting for me.  Maybe tonight I will get some more cutting for my quilt done.  Or maybe I will read through the Shabby Chic library book to help me prepare for my big flea market trip in June. Or maybe I’ll just look through my new Mollie Makes magazine, or begin putting words to my day for a blogpost.  I’ll check in and tweet with my friends a bit, and finally, Lord willing (and kids don’t start throwing up or an earthquake doesn’t occur or….) I’ll begin my fresh new day with a good night’s sleep.

It’s a blessed life I have, and I’m thankful.

A Day in My Life, Part 2

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If you missed it, you can read Part 1 here.
Midday

I join my 5 and 7 year olds to help them with folding the small mountain of kitchen linens threatening to overtake our sofa.  We use mostly cloth napkins and dish towels rather than paper products, in reds, yellows, greens, and oranges.  Bright colors for all of the wee people here I suppose.

Once the drawers are full of linens, I begin doing some teaching with my 7 year old, and we are still working on proper pencil holding.  I regret not starting her with cursive first, and am thankful she wasn’t further along in ball-n-stick than she was.  Her handwriting is becoming more and more fluid, and the death grip on her pencil is beginning to, finally, relax.  I think those loopy-loo’s that always come so easily to my toddlers should have been an obvious hint to which style of handwriting they are better able to utilize, but I was too smitten with “how the schools do it” rather than really watching and listening to my own children.

I send the boys outside to go pump their legs with cross-country bike riding (it’s all gravel and meadow and plenty of dirt), and to bring in any more eggs they can find in their coat pockets.  I also ask for the starter trays from the greenhouse because I’m moving much slower and figured I could plant seeds a bit at a time on my back porch instead.  But, really, I just needed them to go burn off some energy.
After unloading a few blue and brown eggs, my 5 year old boy clambers red-faced to the kitchen table.  And while he and my daughter are working and chittering with each other, I sit catching up on some reading, picking at curriculum, a magazine, a recipe.  The older kids are either picking at schoolwork or preparing for art lessons, and Ruby is banging away at the play kitchen.  When my little students finish up their math and spelling, I read to them from the Jesus Storybook Bible and the Christian Nature Reader and send them on their way to play.  Ruby runs after them in glee.
Our “maybe we can come” friends show up, and my 14 year old starts an art lesson with the youngest of the children, a collage of a butterfly’s life from egg to flutter.  We’ve been using Atelier for years, and the results are always pleasant.  My smiling friend helps herself to a mug and picks a bag out of the tea drawer, mi case es her casa.  We chat, and unapologetically eat seriously delicious cinnamon rolls with our hot drinks.  And yes, we share those with the children, all twelve of them.  But the bowl of leftover frosting we keep for our own spoons.
The other children in time do art lessons as well, and it is interspersed with either outside play in the sunshine, or music lessons from the teacher that arrives during this time.  The whole house and yard is full of happy eating, painting, music making, outdoor mud splashing, and toddlers vrooming their cars and dolly strollers all over the wide planked wood floors.  Of course there are cries of hurts, bumps to kiss and peepee accidents to deal with, too.  Here is my 9 year old’s painting, one of her most “happy days”:  when she and I flew to California together for a quick family visit.

The sunshine is still beckoning me outside, so my friend and I go for a walk down the long woodsy dirt road.  A half hour later, we return to visit my dairy goats, and I peer into my garden.  The shallots are starting to come up already.  I’ve never grown shallots before.

My goat girls are so sweet, they love to snuggle.  Here are Smores and Dancer.  I had to keep them at arm’s length to get this photo during our snow.  While my friend and I are in the musty barn, we talk about livestock of all kinds, fencing, dreams.  It is comfortable and warm in the stall, and the boys next door bleat for lovings too.  I glove up to pat my buck and also stroke my wether’s growing beard, telling them both yes, they are *so* handsome.

Inside, the large stockpot of chicken soup is hot and as my friend and I correct the seasonings and cut bread slices, the children clean up art supplies and make room for eating.  The clanking of spoons and white porcelain bowls upon the table add to the scuffling of chairs, and all at once, silence.  We all give thanks, and eat.  The broth is completely satisfying, bits of chicken and rice deliciously warm and good for the soul, too.  It is 2:00 in the afternoon.
Blessings,

A Day in My Life, Part 1

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Evening to Morning



T’wasn’t so long ago I was looking at someone’s blogsite and sighing over the fact that it looked like this writer was miles ahead further than me, headed where I wanted to go. But then I came across what her day was like and decided that not only was she living far differently than I, but that our visions differed in how to get to where we, seemingly, were similarly headed. It was a wonderful blessing to see her day! Not only did it give me some inspiration, it gave me added contentment in my own life and manners. My life is my own, my days are unique. So are yours, in their own beautiful way. Here’s a peek into one of mine.


As a note, I consider the start of my day the evening before. That is, my “day” begins at sundown and ends at sundown the next calendar date. It does a lot of good for me to consider it this way, so we start our journey at suppertime.


6pm.  My husband takes me out for a burger downtown in the renovated building that used to serve as a gasoline station. The locals here easily pay thrice as much as the nationwide dollar-a-burger across the street, but in return have choices such as garlic fries and gluten-free buns.  And taste.  The motto is “good grub is messy”, and it is, the greasy napkins piling up on the formica.  So instead of supper with the family, my kids enjoy a pineapple pizza while my husband and I go on a date to eat, pick up our food from a coop order and choose a video for ourselves as well. Which, 48 hours later, we still have not watched.  But I digress.


Back home, while the children are already jammied up and engrossed in a video playing on the projector screen, I decide to sneak away to finish up the sweet little blackbird pincushion I had been working on, while half-listening to the audio of Family Writing.  That other half of me is not listening to anything at all; just quietly stitching deftly through layers of black wool.  I feel the baby inside roll and rumble, keeping me company.


I help my husband get the kids into their beds with kisses,  read three-quarters of a chapter about Photoshop, and head slowly back down the stairs.

There is almost always a kitchen chore or two (or three) to do before bed, and this evening I feed my Italian sourdough starter for upcoming pizza making (for two days later), and knead up the dough for cinnamon rolls with my French sourdough starter (for the next day).  I smell the sourdoughs up close and am satisfied with their scent of far away places, of century-old bakeries working in tandem with nature to create food.  I get two pounds of hulled walnuts to soaking, and eat the last of a brownie.  

I run a hot bath with Frankincense essential oil, mainly because it sounds exotic.  I soak, and read a bit of Living into Focus.  I love the subtitle, “Choosing What Matters in an Age of Distractions.”  I would have bought that book just to have the title cover reminding me of what I really want to be about: intentionality.  And what I want to forgo: distractability.

I go to bed alone, fight with where pillows are going to support my growing baby-middle, and read a bit of Among English Hedgerows.  It’s a little book published in 1899 I found in a musty used book store last summer in Eugene, Oregon.  As I’m reading, I’m remembering my childhood and thatched roofs, pulled market baskets, pubs.  I pull the lamp cord and turn the light out at 11pm.


That night, I wake at 3:30am.  My hips feel out of place, and what am I going to do, wake up my chiropractor husband for an adjustment? I lay there, waiting to go back to sleep, but I feel like an owl.  Finally I just talk with the Lord, and pray until I am all prayed out, and then I feel a bit guilty for that.  I mean, who ever runs out of things to pray on or pray for?  I just give thanks that He knows all things, and I figured that whatever reason He had me up to pray, His Holy Spirit accomplished, and besides, isn’t just talking with Him prayer too?  I read a chapter from my kindle, and my last look at the clock is 5:30 on that morning.

I awake again at 7:45, almost two hours later than usual.  At this point, I’m thinking that blogging my day is going to be a big flop because none of it has been “typical”.  I missed my quiet Bible reading.  I hear little feet stomping around upstairs so I dress, make the bed, get my adjustment, check emails and tweet as the rooster is crowing and the goats are hollering for fresh hay.  The mudroom door slams as the kids run outside and I shut the laptop cover.


I get the tea pot going and feed my Italian starter again.  While eggs are getting collected and watering pails filled, I shuffle in the kitchen making everyone Russian black rye sourdough toast with a fresh egg over easy that morning.  It is satisfying, listening to the children chatter like chickadees at breakfast, yolk dripping from chins.

Afterwards, I check the slow of sourdough. On the right is the promise of baking to come.  On the left I have rolled out sourdough cinnamon rolls ready to rise and bake, hopefully in time to share with a friend who may, or may not, depending, be coming over.  I think, “If she comes, she’ll need a roll today with her tea.”  I drain the soaked walnuts, put them into the dehydrator, and steep my pomegranate green tea while overseeing the rest of the morning chores for the children.

In the midst of this, my seven year old gingerly admits to opening up my Japanese crayons–the ones I had brought out to share with her to begin with–and to drawing directly on my art book with them.  I find myself peeved.  I quietly send her to her room to have five minutes to drink my tea and ask the Lord what He would have me do.  Is this really something to be peeved about?  Is being peeved a sin?  Isn’t being offended impossible for those that love His law?  Doesn’t “peeved” lead to “peevishness”?  Doesn’t that sound like an entrance to becoming–or confirming–an odious woman?  I’m peeved with myself now, for being peeved.


While I’m pondering and peeving, I look my nine year old standing above me in the eye and say squarely, “Do not even ask me one.more.time. when our friends are coming.   I said I would tell you when I knew.  If I’m told.”  


I have just enough time to note the sunshine streaming through the firs outside onto the kitchen garden.  I leave half my tea untouched while I go to speak with my seven year old.  It is 10am.

Red and Yellow, Black and White…

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Not ignorance, but the ignorance of ignorance, is the death of knowledge. 
Alfred Whitehead

I just finished reading The Help, which I am sure by the sheer amount of reviews and whatnot many if not most of you have already read or seen on screen.  Amazon, so far, lists more than 5100 reviews for this first time novelist, most of them positive.  I was curious who would plug in a rating of “one” and what they would say, but was afraid my worst fears would manifest itself with a plethora of “Hilly”s taking to the reviews while they were setting their hair and waiting for the good ol’ days to return.

Mostly, I just sort of sat sober when I was finished.  One, that this history was incredibly recent.  Two, that I was so clueless about it.  And three, that I was so naive to be really stinkin’ annoyed by people who assumed that because I was white, I was racist.   Well, I’m not.  Racist, that is.  But fool enough to be that clueless, I suppose so.

I spent half my growing up years in England growing up not only among Brits, but among other “Yanks” from all over the states (and thus cultural areas).  I guess that afforded me the blinders.  Even when I putzed in the states every so many years, I lived in places like California, where my first “very best friend in the world” was Jocelyn, who was black, and that didn’t turn a single head. 

I remember only two events that nicked my blindspots while growing up.  One, was an argument with a relative about how yes I would certainly marry a black man if that’s how it worked out.  I don’t even remember why that conversation came up but I do remember being so angry!  The second event was meeting one of my husband’s relatives, and how she narrowed her eyes asking all about the Greek in me (my mom is Greek) and how her neighbors were Greek and what *those Greek folks* were like.  All I can say is that I still loved those women during those conversations.  But sheesh.

The other book I recently read was this one:


…and I tweeted how that book was about the best book I have ever read.  I feel like the Lord just grew me up as not only a Christian woman, but as a white woman who needed to know about the kind of history I am hoping to be living at the tail end of.  And yet, I am not naive about even that anymore.

Where I live, people are white (and I’m not just saying that because the sun doesn’t shine here enough to tan).  The fact is, once you cross over the mountains to the east and head into valleys where all of our major farmlands are, most of the farmhands you see are…Hispanic.  They pick the fruit, they clean the houses, the raise the children…of white people.  I see it more now.

I guess I just pray.  Because only God can change hearts and I think it somehow begins with hearts that already love the Lord.  I pray for courage, for the devil’s grip on our nation to loosen, to see somehow in my lifetime on earth a taste of that grand banquet to come, where God is glorified not only by our marvelous differences but for our love and fellowship for one another and for the similarity of being in Christ.  I guess if that makes me a foolish white woman, then that’s where I am right now.

May God grant me the courage to keep my eyes and heart open.

Blessings,

Two Ponderings For the New Year

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Our home in the woods in last winter’s snow

I was struck by the title of a chapter I was reading in Parenting by the Spirit (an excellent little book, by the way).  It was “Does your schedule match your priorities?”  This probably gained my attention because I ponder this sort of thing quite a bit, and what I dislike probably more than anything else is the act or the idea of living life in the shallows.  Does my life match my priorities?  I don’t know. I think so, most of the time, for the areas that are truly in my control.  But my confidence wanes enough to cause me to question it, all the same.

Here are my latest ponderings.  Feel free to leave me a comment and help me unwrap them more.  Or please share your own new year ponderings!

1.  To keep blogging, or not to keep blogging…

I kept a far more active blog years ago that I quit, and now it’s been a couple more years on this one.  And I feel like I’m floundering these days on it, like either I have nothing else to say, or hunger more for real relationships with people that I can actually call by name.  Even now, I wonder, who am I writing to?  Are they even reading this? Or are they (dread) just *skimming* though, ready to click-click-click onto other blog posts, other websites, other places?  How does this fit with my own “priority” of real, deep and honest relationships?

And then I think, well, I blog because I love to write (which I do), and I want to encourage other moms in building their own happy homes.  But, really?  If I write a post on, say, “does your schedule match your priorities?”…. is it really making a difference in anyone’s life?  Does my reader actually think “hmm?” and ponder and come to peace with those ponderings?  Or is the noise of simultaneous media texts and  status updates distracting?  I so want to be a blessing, and not one more voice that is potentially fodder for distraction and the neglect of the better things.  Is that even possible?

What I really long to do is reach over, close up the laptops (yours and mine), and talk over coffee cake and a cup of tea.  What’s the Lord been teaching you lately?  How are your children doing?  Is your life joy-filled?  Do you need to forgive anyone?  How can I pray for you?  What are you making for supper tonight?  How is your marriage?  What are you reading?  What do you dream about? Tell me your testimony of God’s grace, because I love to hear the story again and again from my brethren…

I’m not sure how to cultivate *that* kind of relationship over a computer, no matter how many followers, friends, or fans the site or statistics says I have.  Then again, maybe the point of it all is not to cultivate relationships at all, but just a place to showcase *me*.  Which seems sort of like a limp wet rag in my mind; I am more than my avatar.

2.  To go to school, or not…

It took me 13 years to get my BS and MS in Holistic Nutrition.  I just picked at it while baring and raising six children, and eventually received two more degrees than the one I earned in college.  Now what?  I think I want to learn more about becoming a community herbalist, and do more schooling towards that end.  I love learning!  And of course, because I’m pregnant (again), doesn’t that mean more schooling (again)?  I guess I am just wondering how and when (and if) all of that schooling is going to combine into something I can use to either bless other people with or to help provide more income for my family (or both).  Or is it just enough to use all of that information for my own small circle of family and friends?

So what I’m really pondering is:   how I’m going to get to really know and help women slow down their crazy lives enough to smell the roses while cultivating my writing habits while offering my love of good food and herbs for vibrant health while sharing my love of drawing and stitching while always pointing those women to the Prince of Peace where they can find what the whole purpose of our short, vapor lives is really about to begin with.

Ok, there are the threads.  Let’s see how they weave.

Blessings for a spirit-led, fruit-filled, new year to you all,

Six Ways to NOT be Overwhelmed

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End of summer.  End of mountains of sandy/dirty laundry, long road trips, relatives a’visiting.  Time to relax, right?  Righhhhhht….

Does this look anything like your autumn list?

  • Begin in earnest a new homeschooling year with new books, new curriculum, new pencils and new hopes for a fresh and fulfilling knock-it-out year of academic wowzaminess.
  • Preserve and can a garden full of harvest or at least those few 20 pound boxes of various fruit that was too good to pass up via the local organic food drop
  • Plan and prepare homemade Christmas gifts and supplies for a list of people that hasn’t even been created yet and oh yea don’t forget to plan the holiday photo in time for all of the card addressing and sending off
  • Speaking of gardens (were we?), weed and put the gardens to bed for the winter and make sure any livestock is set for feed and breeding needs
  • And oh yeah, livestock.  It’s butchering time and time to fill the freezer.
  • Begin preparations for fall cleaning for the upcoming holiday season and, once again, the relatives to come a’visiting.

Allow me to offer you (and the above-list owner)

Six Ways to NOT be Overwhelmed:

 
1.  Study to be quiet
Protect (or carve out) that solitude time in the morning or whenever it is best for you.  Study the Word, take a 20 minute walk, take a daily tea…and let the world pass on by with its (inter)net.  Make time to just sit on the porch and make pictures out of stars.  In other words, chill out, woman.  The world won’t end if you don’t have your 54 pints of applesauce in the pantry by Thanksgiving.

2.  Work with your hands
Just do the next thing.  If the next “thing” is completely unclear, break down the larger goals into parts.  For example, if you’re going to make homemade gifts, break it down into step like you’re talking to your five-year-old self.  #1  Pick an idea.  #2  Make a list of recipients.  #3 Make a list of supplies….etc.  Then schedule out when each step can be done onto a calendar.  Focus on the next step, not on the whole finished product.  Pat yourself on the back for accomplishing the step!  You’d do the same for your own child, wouldn’t you?

3. Build houses
Seek ye first the kingdom of God.  If the foundation is rotting, the house will fall.  Keep first things first:  God, Bible reading and study, character building.  Don’t ignore discipline issues for lack of time or the warning signals that maybe that group of “friends”or that outside activity for your child isn’t really wise.  Don’t presume upon tomorrow.  Better to let the weeds outside grow than to allow sin to take root on the inside. Remember to keep the main thing, the main thing.

4. Dwell in them
Be present.  If your to-do lists are too large to include your children’s “helps” or a quiet evening with your husband doing nothing but watching a movie, then your lists are too large.  Remember that you are also a member of the family.  Use your sofa and knit.  Swing on the kiddy swing.  Dring tea out of one of those hanging tea cups.  Use your tub for a good soak.  Don’t be the blur rushing always by the child waiting for laptime with a book hanging from his hands.

5. Plant gardens
There is a time and season for all that truly needs to be done, but sometimes what is needful is dwarfed by what is desired.  Use a schedule, plan your time wisely.  Don’t over commit–and learn to say “no” without guilt!  Making a schedule or even a loose routine will be a good check for a realistic 24 hour day.  No, you can’t be in three places at once.  And yes, you do need to sleep!

6. Eat the fruit of them
Eat what you have today; don’t worry about the ‘morrow.  Find gratefulness and blessing in each day, even more than the lacks or failures that seem burdensome. His mercies are new every morning; exhale thanks before your feet hit the floor and remember that although Jesus really had a short time to do the work of the Father, He was never in a hurry. Trust God to give you the time to do what He has called you to do, today.

You can read more thoughts on not being overwhelmed this week at other High Five Mom posts. Tell them I sent you!

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Blessings for a peaceful autumn in your home,

The Do’s of “Biblical Womanhood”

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A lot of you know I’ve been in a floundering state lately.  Not only have I shaken my house up like a snowglobe to see how I can simplify more or redecorate with what I have, but I’ve been zeroing in on a lot of my thought processes like a pinpoint too, asking myself, “hmm…why is that?  Why do I think that?”  One thing I’m figuring out is that I’m definitely a workaholic.  I can’t even sit down to watch a video with the kids without having to do something “productive” like mending or organizing or clipping little nails.  In fact, whenever I get into the daydreaming la-la mode, I am quick to nip it in the bud, set the timer for 15 minutes and off I fly!  I also care a whole lot about what people think, and I burden myself too much with trying to at least be acceptable to folks who have already made up their minds that I shall never be such.

In addition, there is sometimes a disconnect between my slow-life-spirit and my fast-life-flesh. “Hmm…why is that?”

It seems to me a lot of Christian women have their own “gotta do’s” or “must be’s” in order to live the abundant life.  Do any of these sound familiar?  A Christian woman:

  • reads her Bible every day, without fail, during her “quiet time”
  • prays constantly
  • serves cheerfully, gratefully, sacrificially, constantly
  • respects her husband completely
  • is always ready to train up her children at the moment they need training
  • builds upon her family’s economics by preserving the harvest, baking from scratch, buying used
  • receives every baby faithfully, unwavering
  • forgives, loves, and does good all the days of her life

None of these things sound bad, do they?  In fact, they might be qualified in some circles as “fruit”, obvious manifestations to the testimony this woman claims to have.  But I do wonder about this verse:

 John 6:29   Jesus answered and said unto them, This is the work of God, that ye believe on him whom he hath sent.

That, dear readers, is the real “work” of the Christian woman:  to believe on Jesus Christ, trusting Him for your repentance towards God.  May I add “period”?

I wonder how many of us are running ragged, struggling with finding joy, swimming in doubt because we are just plain tired of all the to-do’s and must-be’s?  May I remind you that it’s been DONE?  Every work you needed (and need) to do to please the Father, He did (and does, through you!). All you and I did before getting saved was heap wrath upon ourselves, even in our moralistic good works.  And all we do now by trying so hard to be that “Biblical Woman” is make ever growing checklists of what exactly defines that.  How disappointed are you when you don’t measure up?  Most importantly, does Jesus think you aren’t measuring up?  Whose standards or expectations have you adopted?  And how is that different from what Jesus said the work of God is?

Maybe we need to stop trying so hard to work for that sense of accomplishment and acceptance.

If you’ve repented and put your trust in Jesus, you can rest in peace, truly.  And all of those really nice sounding “to do’s” that we’ve added to ourselves will stop being things to DO but things that will just outflow from our lives, naturally, as the Lord leads.  He is moving us towards sanctification, and He isn’t whipping us to get there, but asking us to follow.  And we’re not responsible for the sins of others, either, especially if our consciences are clear.

Philippians 1:6   Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ…

I hope you’ll remember His finished work on your behalf, that you are loved by the Creator of the entire universe and entirely accepted and loved through Jesus Christ.  May grace abound to you more every day as you seek a happy home.  I for one am going to allow myself a little more daydreaming.

Blessings,

Expressing the Creative Side

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Rearranging the house, painting furniture, zealous decluttering happening around these parts.  And a massive garage sale coming on Saturday morning.  It is slow, room by room, drawer by drawer, but the house is getting a huge fresh breath of air.  For too long I haven’t wanted to really invest in my home this way because (1) I didn’t *deserve* a big beautiful house and (2) we had (have) no money to do anything major.  Ahhh but grace abounds and re-decorating with what I have is free.  Besides, selling stuff makes money, and as it turns out my kids love to paint (praise the Lord because I don’t!).

My closet got a makeover as well.  First I removed absolutely everything out of it.  And then I painted the wall and my husband’s childhood dresser, and then I refused to put anything back in that didn’t fit or made me feel frumpy or was just plain old.  Yes, that emptied my closet!!  I am slowly filling it with a purchase here and there, and it is amazing how much better it feels to have a small wardrobe and to know everything there will be something nice that fits well.  I have the perfect little new dress to wear for my 19th wedding anniversary coming up on Monday.

I love my letter friends and pen pals! It is so nice to get a letter (thank you!) and to carefully pry it loose it during a quiet moment (OR to rip it open in the car outside the post office!).  I love just listening to the handwriting and contemplating the words of these other faithful women just making their way like I am. I think every woman needs a letter-writing friend. It fosters slowness.  Observation.  Exhaling.

I’ve also been journaling, re-creating my habit of writing every day.  It’s been like meeting myself, all over again!

Slowly stitching my way across my linen and wool bed cover.  I’m working on the border now.  A couple of days ago I was threading through the pieces thinking how I need to make more time for this, not just for me but for my children as well.  There’s far too much time in academics and chores and I think we need more balance in the visual arts, at least to allow them to express their creative sides more.  I tend to worry more about finishing grammar work than if they got anything even remotely related to art begun or finished. I bet we could listen to audio books and whatnot while we worked on projects.  I’ll be praying on this while we make out our new autumn schedule.

I did finish my basket!  I made it the perfect size for carrying a casserole dish in, and deep enough also for two dishes.  My husband said he would make me a little tabletop to separate the two layers.  A friend of mine sewed up the liner for me in exchange for herbal tinctures, and we are both very happy with that trade!

The garden is blooming, and it is wonderful to look out the kitchen windows to see the crazy purples and oranges and blues and of course green everywhere.  The nice thing is that most of it is just perennials coming back, and I let the surprises just be where they wanted for the most part: poppies in the path, borage throughout, calendula seeding elsewheres.  I haven’t even minded the hens coming in.  If I have salad greens (and I do!) it is a plus; if I don’t, I figure it’s an excuse to go to the farmer’s market.  I have corn, squash, beans, and tomatoes out front this year, too, but I’m not too stressed about keeping the weeds down.  Maybe I should be.  But I’m not.

Between my road trip with my friend, and the vacation at the beach with my family we just had, I’ve got a little stash of artist playthings going.  Wool felt, ribbon, fat quarter fabric, scrapbooking paper, stickers, a rubber stamp, paint.  I don’t know what I’m going to do with it all.  But right now I am enjoying them all on my desktop, just looking pretty.  Maybe inspiration will come.

I’m learning that I don’t need to necessarily have my act together (according to me, my biggest critic) before embarking on creative pursuits.  I just need to start them, and to cultivate habit and routine to see them through.  The arts can become just another aspect of homelife, weaving in through homeschooling, homemaking, playing and dishes. 

What did you like to do when you were young?  What arts do you most enjoy?  Try a little nibble if you’re feeling a little dry, and maybe that seedbed will stir into something beautiful.

Blessings,

Spring Food

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I can tell you that my second go at this post is going to be a whole lot shorter, what with Blogger losing the first time I wrote this up.  It was a good reminder that everything I do here is as the air that blows by, nothing will keep.

What I wanted to share with you is my desire to eat seasonally and locally but that my military brat upbringing doesn’t give me a real locale to draw from.  As they say, “I’m from everywhere!”  So by default, where I am today, that is where I think I need to focus.  Too bad, because the thought of geoduck really grosses me out.

Furthermore, in our culture, anything that is accessible from the 24 hour open grocery store is always “in season”.  And more, what am I supposed to provide for my husband and children when they are hungry *now* and I think all I’m looking at are lush amounts of dandelion greens growing outside?  It is a hard thing, this eating locally, and in its proper season.

Why do it at all?  I dunno.  Other than the obvious thousand-plus mile transport of unripened food stuffs that can’t be all good, eating in season sure makes food a lot more tastier and fun.  Tomatoes picked from the backyard at the height of summer actually have flavor.  Grocery store tomatoes here in January just plain *lack*.  Eating in season means looking forward to peaches or corn on the cob or even apples.

Here’s a breakfast I enjoyed not too long ago, trying to keep local and in season.  There were sauteed onions and garlic and shiitake mushrooms (from the store) and duck eggs from my yard and about the last of the dried parsley from my garden last year.  I was looking at my plate (with the mayo-miso sauce side, mmm…) and thinking how, really, if I had the know-how, I could grow and store my own onions and garlic for the year, and learn how to do more mushroom hunting. My mushroom-friend recently told me she had spent time in Idaho hunting for morels (you know, those mushrooms that are $50 a POUND at the store!)….although, come to think of it, they look about as appealing as geoduck.  But check out how yellow this dish was!  Thank you, my free-ranging organic growing ducks!

Here’s another meal that we liked so much I made it twice.  I made homemade noodles (flour, olive oil, water and fresh eggs), and while they sat waiting for the water to boil, I sauteed onions, garlic, shiitake mushrooms (craving those I guess), fava beans, asparagus tips, pea shoots, and some spinach from my garden.  I finished them off with apple cider vinegar and white wine, and after topping the cooked pasta, we laid on some queso blanco (“white cheese”). Not only was it all pretty, it was very spring-y!

I got the recipe idea from Chefs on the Farm, which is a neat book highlighting different seasons on a dairy goat farm:

Another book I just finished reading was The Dirty Life.  Other than a couple of unfortunate word choices, it was a fabulous read about a young lady from New York who leaves to start working a farm with her boyfriend.  Now, she was a total new-bie at planting anything, much less trying to cook with whatever they had on hand and were growing.  I laughed out loud at some of her experiences!



There were a couple of things I took away from this book: (1) I thought I respected farmers before but now I really, really respect them and (2) I never want to do more than “garden” and just keep dairy goats and hens. I love the fact I can shop the farmer’s markets more these days and I still have the crazy thought in my head that someday my trips to the grocery store will be far and few between, but I am thankful I don’t have to grow it all myself. And I am very, very happy that we are currently getting most of our meat from either our own animals (chicken and we hope someday, pork), or from friends (trout and beef).

Local, seasonal, eating. Does that appeal to you, too?

Sense-Full

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I was thinking today of some beautiful things I am lately filling my senses with.

For one, I’m writing in a journal I bought from this company, Legacy.   The paper feels so nice to the hand, the cover is lovely to the eye, but I must admit the pen was replaced!  I miss writing in my journal.  I don’t mind blogging to y’all but my journal is between me and the Lord.  I write a few pages every morning; it clears my head. Plus I imagine my grand-daughters and great-grand-daughters might take pleasure in my journal books, reading my words.  Or not.  All I know is that I wish I had something such from the women gone on ahead of me.  I hope they will be an encouragement to them.

The little book I’ve been reading is this one:

I have so many books I’m picking at, every one of them nonfiction and meant for learning.  This little one however, with the cover I loved and bought because of it (yes, I can be that sort of book buyer), is such a gem.  A few pages goes well with a cup of tea; it can’t be rushed.  It’s a good mommy heart-to-heart sort of book.  And yes, it’s nonfiction, too.

The vintage little loom I brought home has been warped and I am ready to start weaving!  The warp was a bit of a learning curve, but I didn’t mind it.  It was methodical, threading each bit of warp through the reed and then through the heddle (also known as, “those do-hickies on a loom that hold the thread in tension and in place”).  It’s nice to just sit for a spell and make something that looks and feels nice.  I’m spinning up the rest of the white merino, alpaca, mohair as well.  I plan to dye it with natural plant materials, and then….who knows?!  Maybe I’ll weave a scarf!

The farmer’s markets are back in business and my taste buds are so excited!  It would be a dream to forgo the grocery store completely and just have real, simple food from real farmers eaten in their real seasons grown in my own region.  To that end, I’m planting a garden again.  I don’t know if I’ll ever get the garden of my dreams, but I do know that lettuce picked from my home garden has a monumental advantage in nutrition and taste over salad greens that have been picked who knows when, packed in plastic, and shipped for who knows how long over how many miles.  I dream of a root cellar, a cheese closet, multitude of preserves from my front and back yards.  Maybe someday. 

My ears have been listening to Victoria Botkin’s She Shall Be Called Woman.  I heard her speak recently and I just loved how light and down-to-earth she was.  I wasn’t sure if I would hear anything I didn’t already know (not that I’ve learned it, just that I’ve heard it…sometimes it’s “in one ear, whoops, out the other” y’know?), but she is definitely coming at issues from different directions and it is good thinking fodder.  I did read some real snarky comments regarding her words, and my thought was, “Hmmm…..guess those just prove her point!”  Feminism can be so ugly.  I hate the threads of it that still cling to me.

And smell?  Every morning I am outside wrapped in the smell of a newly mercied fresh morning and I milk the one kinder doe I have in milk and it is something I love.  It reminds me of my Greek grandma, milking her goats to give her grandchildren a little hot cocoa with their breakfast.  I love the sound of the milk hitting the pail, the sight of the thin frothy milk increasing in volume, and sometimes I just rest my forehead up against her side, breathing in all her warm goat-ness while she munches on her grain. 

My God has loved me sense-full, and I am thankful for it all.

Creativity LaLa Land

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Somehow, on my last blog, I wrote and wrote and got a ridiculous amount of pages written. Like 868 pages to be exact. It all sits on pdf file waiting for me to do something with it all, which is fairly low on the priority or even the second-string wanna-do list. I do love to write though and am finding myself enjoying sending and receiving handwritten letters more and more. There’s just something about the slowness of it, having a cup of tea and concentrating on that one person’s words completely, and swirling my own handwriting in return, thoughtfully crafting my emotions and news into words. I wonder, if more ladies wrote letters, what might happen. Perhaps more thoughtfulness in words, more grace to others, patience.

And it does seem journaling is passe as well, the sort of journaling that involves a notebook of some sort and a pencil or pen that flows from it thoughts of the day, lessons from the Lord, prayers and funny little happenstances. Blogs are faster and built with an immediate audience, but I do wonder what my great grand-daughter will end up reading if I don’t return to paper. Or maybe she’ll just read the pdf version. Maybe she won’t know the difference.

In any case, I’ve been tinkering around with other creative pursuits. I began another basket, one that I could use to carry a casserole dish in (practicality meets artistry). I’m nearing the end of handstitching an appliqued woolen bed cover, and almost have one (one!) knitted sock finished. Some focus would be a good thing about now, but instead it’s been pick a little here, pick a little there, tooling around in Creativity LaLa Land. I’m looking forward to Creativity Boot Camp; I think I need some coaching in figuring out where I can best funnel my artistic bents.

I did finish my Masters in Holistic Nutrition, which was both a great blessing (yay! I did it!) but also a bit of a bummer because that race is run and done. I love learning! I’m already looking into classes regarding more training in herbs and also seminars in American history where I can actually read and try to understand primary source documents. Next year I plan to learn more about church history with my children (I think we need a field trip to Europe, don’t you?). Homeschooling rocks. I hope all of my children catch the *loving to learn* bug and will chase after topics they are fascinated with.

A friend of mine offered me this gorgeous 1949 Singer featherweight for a “real, good price” and I snatched it up. It sews like a dream. I love just the sound of it! My daughters can sew on the fancier machines we have (and they do), but this little beauty is Mama’s. I hear another quilt calling me…

I also picked up a vintage loom (“vintage” does sound better than “old”, doesn’t it?), and am learning how to warp it. I’m looking forward to using it and making my own handwoven dishcloths so I can stop buying them from Etsy stores. No worries though, I can always find more to buy there!

This year in my garden I’m trying to grow beans to dry, such as garbanzo and black, and we’ve got a rather intimidating large new plot tilled out front. I’m hopeful to have the problem of an abundance harvest to deal with putting by! I don’t know about where you are, but food prices are getting crazy. Gardening is looking more like a necessity and less like a hobby.

I hope you have a good evening. If my blog seems quiet, it’s because I’m trying out new things and keeping Amazon well supplied with whatever money I can dig up (after getting pained at the gas pump and grocery store) to spend time reading and learning about various things.

Time is precious, and it’s growing shorter every day. May your own creative endeavors reflect our Creator God more and more, and may you be blessed through them.

Warmly,

Morning at a Happy Home and Farm-ette

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Morning these days is glorious. The air just smells so spring with salty sea air filtering through the woods and daffodils perfuming the air. If I could put a scratch and sniff on all of your computer screens, I would. Want to come join me for a bit this morning?

We’re outside first thing because we have animals to tend to and feed. It’s an efficient dance of filling dog bowls, checking water levels, tending to poultry, and hushing up the mewing kitty. Rabbits and goats need hay and ducks need letting out once we collect their eggs. It’s all a good excuse to get that intoxicating morning sunshine, but sometimes in the winter it’s blustery and 19 degrees outside.

I love the look of the morning sun filtering through the trees and cloud cover. These are shoots of lilies promising to come this summer. You don’t see all the weeding that needs to be done, do you?

I can only imagine how beautiful this tree will be when it is more than three straggly large branches coming out of the ground. Maybe we’ll get one peach this year. If the dogs don’t get it first.

Well, good morning, Splat! She wants her grain and she wants a relieved udder! She’s all business this morning, knowing exactly where to go and what to do. Her nose hair is rubbed off from the feeder grates. It annoys me. I plan to smooth them out this summer so hopefully it won’t rub the hair off anymore.

Portabello is our wether. He’s not yet two, and he still acts like a baby. He is so very friendly, and loves having his back rubbed. In the next month (Lord willing!), they’ll have three new friends joining them!

The dogs are fed and happy and it is always fun to watch them play around with each other. They are working dogs, guarding our children and animals, and are especially busy in the night hours, chasing off whatever varmits want to come tour our property for supper pickings. Our lab is very mellow, but definitely the alpha/master teacher, and our maremma is still a puppy in training.

Back to the house and lookie what we’ve got! Fresh milk right out of the front yard. I still can’t believe how cool that is.

Oh, here are some more pictures from outside before I go in. This is a small magnolia tree that I thought I killed when I moved it. Last fall I ruthlessly hacked off all of the obviously dead limbs and this spring I am delighted to see blooms!

These are lenten roses, blooming and bringing color in late winter. I like how they are spreading and would love to add more this fall.

Daffodils, too, I need to plant more of. I enjoy them very much, especially the fragrant varieties.

Time to go inside! This sign greets me in the laundry room right from the mud room. It’s a good reminder. Sometimes I need it hourly.

And while we’re in this room on our way in, don’t these bottles look so pretty on the windowsill? A friend of mine gave me her collection when she moved, and I have several windowsills with them. I think they’re beautiful, and I love the Lord for decorating my house for me, too!

How are the kiddos doing? Well, the olders are finishing up the animal chores outside, and here is my 7 year old already dressed and making her bed. Don’t be too impressed because I guarantee I’ll have to remind her to pick up her jammies off the floor, brush her teeth, take care of her hair…

And here I am. No, I’m not dressed and ready for the day yet but I did read my Bible and brush my teeth (does that count?). Dressing’s not going to happen until after I workout, while the kids are eating breakfast. If I dress first, forget it, working out will not happen at all.

And this angel I get to greet in the morning, too. *sigh* Sometimes mommyhood is just so tender and sweet it hurts, you know?

That’s all for this morning! It’s sure a blessing to open my front door in the beginning of the day and see such a beautiful sight. I bet your own camera would show you some of yours, too.

Because His mercies are new every morning,

The Gift of Winter

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I really needed a winter like this. Wet. Dark. Somber skies and gray overcasting the evergreens embracing our home. I needed time to thoughtfully wash dishes and see that the garden was mossy and wilted, not calling me out to weed nor to plant. I needed to spend a slow Christmas, and to just savor my snail mail and magazines and tea cups warming my hands without rushing out to milk a goat or check the beehive or mulch or do whatever else that pushes me to rush through my days no matter how intentional I want to live every day.

Every day I miss my baby. And I feel guilty for not missing her enough. Winter has been good for snuggling into grief, for seeing God through the hurt.

I miss, too, the feeling of my house and all within it welcoming me *home*. How does a woman release her house to the wind and then bloom within it again, returned to her?

And I’m weary of failed relationships, of people who are quick to think the worst, forgive the least, and continually set the bar too high for me to achieve any love in return.

I needed winter.

My doe greeted me today as I spoke to her softly and patted her babies playfully clamoring all around my boots. Since becoming a mother, she has given her trust to me, and no longer shies away when I approach. It is a balm to my soul, this little thing the Lord has done in my barnyard. And I confirmed that yes, one of her teats has dried up already. She suffered a small wound on that side and wouldn’t allow the bucks to touch her. Her udder is half deflated. Sort of like winter. Sort of like me. I stroked her neck and received her grunts and nudgings.

I closed and latched the barn dutch door, more for a wind break than for predator control. I patted my maremma, “good dog…” knowing that he would sleep in the barn, alert even while dreaming. The clouds overhead were moving at a good clip, swirling over themselves. I dug my hands into my pockets and headed towards the house with yellow light casting out of the windows.

On the way I noticed the buds on several tired shrubs, pushing forth life into pregnant pods. Red branches were at least a good four inches anew throughout last year’s maple, reminding me I hadn’t pruned this winter. Irises that won’t bloom until May–my baby was due in May–are already on their way up through the soil. And the garlic. The garlic that I debated about planting last fall…

“What if we’re not here? What if the new owners don’t even know what it is?” I asked my husband.

“Plant it anyway. It would be a blessing to the mommy who would live here. Bless her.”

I laugh. Me. I am the one blessed. With garlic, with goats, with six (six!) lovely children, with a steady husband, with a house halfway through chaotic redecorating and repainting and re-introducing itself to me as my home.

I needed winter, God. But thank you for the tender buds that promise me the spring to come. Thank You for renewing my heart day by day, and truly most of all, for You.

Yours,

The Mercy of a New Year!

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The coyotes woke me again tonight. Well, I ought to say the dogs woke me, what with their running and barking and guarding and sounding the alarm. I love watching them work, and think they look beautiful racing around with their long legs and communicating with one another. It’s a bother waking in the middle of the night, but usually it’s because I either have an infant needing milk or dogs needing my attention. Both are worth waking for.

As the ruckus settled, I was patting my dogs and looking out from my front porch at the blue-black sky punctured with clear stars, thinking of what I might goal-set for the new year. But the beauty of the sparkling frozen ground lit with my flashlight’s wonderings filled me with more gratitude than wants. I have no new year resolutions. In my mind, every morning of the year is a brand-new-day resolution to glorify God in the best way I can, to serve and love others and to do my best, giving my life to them. And as often as I falter during a 24 hour period, the thought of crafting one or more resolutions for 365 days (in a row?!) frightens me to no end!

Much easier for me to ponder my thankfulness, to count my blessings. I’ve had the most relaxing end of the year. Yes, the thorns in my life have been plenty (see the last post), and I’ve been fodder for an unexpected and astonishing amount of unkind gossip, but the indwelling joy of the Lord is untouchable. I love His peace, even in the hurts. It is truly like a river glorious. I have so much to be thankful for, but none compares to being saved by His grace and His presence within me.

The turnabout in our house sale caught me a bit off guard, but I am humbled and thankful for it. I had mentally prepared for the challenges ahead, and also physically prepared by collecting moving boxes and removing things off the walls. And yet here we stay! Suddenly I am planning not only a garden outside of my kitchen, but an enormous new one in the front yard. I am retracting my request for a honeybee babysitting service, and reconnecting with a shepherdess regarding lambs. And for the first time in more than a year, I feel I can just snuggle into my house and not worry about how we’re going to make it all work. A dear friend reminded me that it was not my job nor my calling to worry! I know I am worth more than the lilies of the field, and because I am under His care, I can trust God to provide meat and clothing regardless of where I am living in this vaporful life’s span of mine. My husband is encouraging, positive, passionate about loving others in Christ to good health, and I am thankful for the opportunity to bless him while I have breath. I know the Lord will bless the work of his hands, and I will continue to be his biggest cheerleader no matter where we put our heads at night.

I have also been blessed with beautiful friends. Friends who press me forward and encourage me in the Lord to continue to love “much”, because I have been forgiven “much”. Luke 7:47 …to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little. Friends who trade eggs, text Scripture, and celebrate God’s goodness with me in all things. Friends who join me in crazy new endeavors and friends who joy with me in keeping our homes and loving our husbands and children, serving our wonderful Saviour in the process. One friend said that selling the house and trying to become debt free was probably becoming more of a yoke of bondage than just dealing with a mortgage, and that I could rest in my husband’s decisions, knowing that I could “rejoice to be not entangled again in any yoke of bondage”. Praise the Lord for His sweet freedom! And for the blessing of these sisters who remind me!

I am blessed by the quietness of mid-night, of winter, of the quieted land and animals, of the quiet household tonight with sleeping children, and of a quiet, sound mind. It is already a new day, and my resolution for today, the gift I have right now, is as the wonderful hymn says, Lord, take my life and let it be, consecrated Lord to thee…

May the Lord bless your efforts in the new year, and may His peace be yours.

Gloom and Doom Christianity

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Proverbs 17:20 He that hath a froward heart findeth no good…

There’s nothing quite like keeping up on the news to birth and speed up the process of atrophy in a Christian’s happy heart. It’s pretty difficult to stay centered in the joy of the Lord when, face it, the earth is full of abominations and wickedness, and it’s mostly done by folks who confess to falling short here and there but are, overall, pretty good people. It just sounds so reasonable, how sins such as telling a white lie now and then is innocuous….and yet as Christians convicted of both our own sins (liar, liar, pants on fire…) and the holiness of God (Revelation 21:8 …all liars shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire…) we tend to stand dumbfounded by the foolishness around us. Don’t they see….I can’t believe…How could they….That’s not right…

There is a difference between discernment and despair. Discernment says, “I see it. I understand (that is, allow my heart to do that awful thing sinners hate: judge), and I know this is fully against God’s perfect Word and ways. I hate the sin that God hates. I cry over it.” Despair says, “Oh no! What are we gonna do?! The world’s falling apart!”

A little history? The world’s been falling apart since the trip in the garden of Eden. The atrocities we are privy to thanks to the era we’re living in are nothing new under the sun. Yes, they anger us. Yes, they break our hearts. And yes, they sometimes strike fear for our families and homes. But still there is no cause for despair.

1 Thessalonians 5:18 In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.

This is hard to do, this giving thanks in every thing. But it can only come from sitting firmly at the feet of Jesus, who created every thing and rules every thing. We forget that though the devil goes to and fro throughout the earth to create havoc, pain and death, he’s still on a leash (isn’t that something to give thanks for?!). Every horrible thing….God is using. Every tear…God is saving. Every martyr’s death…God finds precious. If you think you are grieved, angered and hungry for justice….how much more so in our eternal, infinite God? If anything, we ought to be even more humbled and even more fearful for those instruments of wickedness who will soon be face to face with a just God!

I think we Christians need to stop glooming and dooming about it all and reclaim and remember the JOY we have of (first and foremost) being saved from the wrath to come. We need to remember that every hardship is for our good, and managed by the Lord Himself. And can we just preach the gospel to ourselves more and remember that we though we may be experiencing chastisement or hardship (as a loving Father does to His children….for their good…) we aren’t being punished because Jesus took ALL the punishment for our sins upon Himself already? Is there a smile creeping upon your face yet?

Glory in His perfect ways today, glory in His goodness, His presence, His shalom. And maybe, every now and then…turn off the news and turn on your voice to sing hymns and praises. Then you, too, will be a wonder among men who may in turn have ears to hear the wonderful news of the gospel and find peace…and turn from their wicked ways.

Proverbs 16:6 …by the fear of the LORD men depart from evil.

Proverbs 17:22 A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones.

Psalms 100:2 Serve the LORD with gladness: come before his presence with singing.

Blessings and joy to you today,

Can I Be Sad and Still Sing?

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Grief is something I will happily blow a kiss goodbye to when at last I meet my Lord. For one, the whole thing is draining. For another, nothing about it changes anything. And for another, I guess I don’t know how to do it properly.

The first week after the miscarriage I was a bit raw. The littlest things would set me crying, and I felt like I had a pool of hot tears always waiting to crescend down my face. I couldn’t read my Bible without crying over it all: the pain of partaking in suffering, the goodness of God, my thankfulness for Him. And if I felt like I was *making it* during the day, my 4yo would innocently say, “Baby Rose is dead” followed by my 6yo stating matter-of-fact, “Yup! And there she is in the rosebush!”

And then week two hit. And I gotta say, I felt almost normal. The bleeding stopped. I ran errands, I homeschooled the children, I made meals. And this is going to probably sound awful, but I was…..happy. I remember thinking, “Only God can be a joy-giver in the midst of pain” and I relished in His cheer. It was as if the Lord allowed me to look into His face…and how could I not be joyful?

But at the same time I wasn’t oblivious to grief. In fact, I was more aware of it everywhere I went. For example, when the market cashier and I exchanged the typical “how are you-fine” my mind busily spun out, “but I just lost my baby and I am really sad about that and I just want to hold her again….” I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in the gentlemen’s mind. Every face I see now, I wonder about grief behind the eyes. And I’m sorry for it, sorry for it all.

So I have my moments, but overall I think I am all right. Is that so wrong? What’s wrong with me? I think, I miss my baby, but who am I to question the wisdom of the Lord? How can I doubt His goodness to me in all things, His perfecting love, His bigness bigger than all my grief? He is a man acquainted with sorrow, deeply intimate with the pain I know and burden bare-er on my behalf. And yet I do wonder if I am just in denial, because honestly…why wouldn’t I be crying 24/7? I don’t know. But it makes me feel cold hearted at times to be laughing or singing, like I haven’t hit the allotted time yet to allow for it.

In any case, thank you all for your comments, your emails, your sweet notes in my post office box (they are still right at my kitchen sink…those words are such a balm). So many of you have suffered so much; I’ve crushed you all prayerfully and mentally in hugs! We live through such grief in this life! But through it all I would like to just fearfully, tenderly, lovingly and softly invite you to sit with me at the Savior’s feet. Any maybe, perhaps…maybe you, too will find a song on your lips, sweetened by the bitterness of sorrow.

May His joy be yours,

Miscarriage

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I lost my baby Sunday morning.

And yes, I am bawling as I write. But I need to write.

I hadn’t really bonded with my baby while she (I think *she*) was in my womb. It’s the wrong time…I’m not ready…I think I’m getting too old for this…. Furthermore, I never really felt pregnant, other than my expanding waistline. No nausea, no nothing. Just the two bright lines on the pregnancy test. Twice.

And then, Saturday afternoon after coming in from the yard work, I put myself to the kitchen task of preparing for Sunday’s potluck. And I felt it. And I saw blood.

I really tried not to be anxious. But I already knew. For some reason, I had already heard the “tweet” in my mind the weeks before that I would be sending out as an SOS to my friends, “bleeding”. I had mild cramps, and took lots of herbal tea and put my feet up and then got a good night’s sleep. The next morning I felt it again, and ran to the toilet. Where my baby came out.

I immediately got on my knees and dug for her (I’m sorry if this is too gross). And, oh God, I found her. So perfect. So small. She fit in the palm of my hand. A head, a face, arms and legs and little feet. Oh God, how can anyone abort something this precious? I was 12 weeks along.

I didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t like I had prepared for this moment. On the counter though was a bowl of rose petals I was saving for my bath, and on them I gently laid her. I barely got the words out to my husband, apologizing and crying all the while, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…

He was ashen but wanted to see her, too. And he was so sad, which made me even more sad. And he said, “You know….I was already thinking of naming her Rose…” We just held each other.

After an hour or so I encouraged him to take the children to church. They needed the Body. I needed the quiet. I wasn’t ready, however, for the painful three hours of labor-like contractions as my uterus cramped down to size, expelling the placenta and tissue during that time. It made everything worse. All the work of having a baby. And not getting to have the baby. I stayed in bed until the next morning, trying to encourage my children that yes, I was all right, and that, yes, this is an awful sad thing and we can all cry but God is still bigger than death and our baby is safe in His arms. I know because He tells me so, and He is not a liar.

I had a tinge of guilt, of not being *ready* for this baby, for another pregnancy. The accuser was swift, you didn’t deserve this baby…. My God was quicker still, dear one, do you “deserve” the ones you are raising? They are all miracles, gifts, not from your own works, but from mine own visitations, yours to raise for My glory…

So now I find that I need to bury my baby. And how do I do that in a place that is for sale? How do I put her under our special tree knowing that someone else may just knock that spot down and I’ll never get to visit it again? I am anxious to put her body to rest, but I have stupid thoughts like the ground is cold and winter is coming and what an awful dirty place to put a precious baby.

I am taking my tender girls to the nursery to pick out a tree, a rosebush, a something in a big pot. We will bury her in there, and take her with us when we move. And, if God graces us with a new home we can own outright, we will transplant it whenever that time comes. I made her a little mini-quilt, about 6 inches square, to put in with her and the rose petals. Because I have made a quilt for all of my babies. And she will fit perfectly in hers.

I am so heartbroken. It comes in waves. Moments I am all right and can switch laundry around. Then I just cry and cry and cannot speak to anyone at all. I feel awful that I never bonded with my baby until I held her in my hand, but bond I did and I miss her and want her back.

I know a lot of you have gone through this. I used to joke with my friends that I never wanted to join their “club”, because just about all (all!) of them have lost at least one child, and some at birth and some even in toddlerhood. And now they come around me, hurt that yes, I am one of them because they didn’t want their pain for anyone else either. They’ve brought me steak lunches, homemade creme brulee, breakfast muffins, supper for my family, cards, prayers, hugs and kisses.

I just want to say from the bottom of my heart, I am so sorry for all of your losses, no matter how they occurred. I am crying for all of you, too, because death is so awful and hurts so bad. But let us hold fast to the hope of the resurrection, that in Jesus death has lost its sting and that yes, we WILL see our children again because He who has promised is faithful. I believe that somehow our lost babies will grow up to know and receive the Lord. I am so thankful to the Lord for His nearness, His comfort, and yes, even His sovereignty in all things. Even in this, it is for my good because He loves me. Dear Jesus, let me not waste the pain, but oh God, somehow, let even this bring glory to You because I have nothing to offer you but my broken heart.

My love goes out to you all, sweet mamas.


The Mind of Christ, Part 3

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(or…how to study your Bible)

The mind of Christ is unsearchable, really. The closest I’ve been to even considering it on a daily basis is when *stuff* happens and my quippy quick and proud response is something akin to, “Lord, what are you thinking?!” Sigh. Stupid me.

I want to finish dumping my brain on this Bible study. What caught my eye initially was “But we have the mind of Christ.” (1 Cor 2:16). When trying to understand a passage of scripture, it’s very important to read it in context. Meaning, back up and read, sometimes a few lines and sometimes a few chapters! In fact, when backing up from v.16, the previous two verses begin with “but”, so I could go back even further to read what those two “but”s were contrasting.

Sometimes it helps to break up natural pauses, like where the commas are. And sometimes I like to focus on the verbs. Here, I picked up on four verbs: receiving (things of the spirit of God), knowing (them), rightly judging all things (discerning) and being judged of no man (no condemnation). In looking up the word “mind” I found that many, many verses throughout the Bible fit in with those four big ideas. It is SO cool to see phrases and ideas repeat and repeat throughout the scripture, especially when I remember that these books were written by so many people, so many hundreds and thousands of years apart, from so many different lands….and yet they all spoke of the same thing. I love the Bible. It is so precious, and what a gracious God to give it to us, to not leave us guessing about Him or history or what is to come or how we are to walk.

1 Corinthians 2:14-16 But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned. But he that is spiritual judgeth all things, yet he himself is judged of no man. For who hath known the mind of the Lord, that he may instruct him? But we have the mind of Christ.

The Lord says we are to rightly judge all things, to discern between the silly and the sober (Titus 2:6, 1 Peter 1:13). And rightly judging means, I think, that when confronted with a teaching in the Bible that contradicts what I already “know”, that I must be willing to change my mind, to change my course of thinking to make sure my mind is in harmony with His (Num 16:28). It also means being discerning regarding the words that come from my mouth (Pro 29:11). It means judging what would be idolatrous (Ezekiel 20:32 ), and checking pride. Oh, pride! Chief of all stumbling blocks!

Pride is an awful thing, and has no place in a mind that wants to be ruled by Christ, filled with HIS thoughts. The consequences to pride hits hard in the mind: corruption (2 Cor 11:3), hardening (Dan 5:20), and a seat with traitors (2 Tim 3:4). God warns us not to be wise in our “own conceits” (Rom 12:16), but to be soft, teachable.

Learning to rightly judge requires a proper fear of the Lord (Rom 11:20), and a firm resolve to trust Him (Luke 12:29, 2 Thes 2:2) when He reveals that we are otherwise minded (Phil 3:15). We must not be swayed by the love of man (Num 24:13), and it is beneficial to seek out likeminded people who also love the Lord Jesus Christ to test what our minds are resting on (Rom 15:6, 1 Cor 1:10, 2 Cor 13:11, Phil 1:27, Phil 2:2-3, 1 Peter 3:8).

One of the greatest things I learned about cultivating the mind of Christ is that it is not MY job to cultivate it, but to simply with the faith He’s given to me trust Him to lead me and mold me to His way of thinking. It seems obvious that we cannot instruct God (but, boy, don’t we try?! Rom 11:34), but He does reveal Himself to us, because as His adopted children through the Lord Jesus Christ, we are His friends (John 15:15). And besides, I find it frightful at best that God Almighty not only sees every deed, but knows every thought! Why WOULDN’T I want the mind of Christ? Ezekiel 11:5 …for I know the things that come into your mind, every one of them.

God wants ALL of our mind conformed to His way of thinking (Matt 22:37), and He wants us humble enough to renew it (Eph 4:23) so that we are transformed to it (Rom 12:2). And yes, this IS going to mean going against the grain, confronting culture, being a bit peculiar in fact! But we are exhorted to not grow weary, and to consider HIM lest we grow faint in our minds (Heb 12:3).

It’s been an interesting study. Studying God’s Word is always interesting! I loved this verse about reading the scripture with readiness of mind:

Acts 17:11 These were more noble than those in Thessalonica, in that they received the word with all readiness of mind, and searched the scriptures daily, whether those things were so.

Want the mind of Christ? (I do!) Receive Him through repentance and faith, and read your Bible daily. Did you know that twelve to fifteen minutes a day of reading (not “in depth” study, but simply reading) gets you through the Bible in a year? And you never know what trails you’ll end up on, and it is always a blessing! May the peace of God be yours, in both heart and mind, as you allow Him to reach and teach you.

Come, October

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….or, “What do stay-at-home moms do all day?”

I’m looking ahead at my next two weeks and am already eager to greet October when it gets here. I stared at my calendar a good couple of minutes and figured that I better just do what I’m best at when I start to feel overwhelmed: make a list.

So, Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, these are the things that are clamoring for my attention before the month ends:

  • my children need to attend speech therapy, music lessons, an introduction to a Lego Robotics class (combined with a spinning class for the young ladies), and, for the 4 and 6 year olds, an appointment with the dentist to get the “thumb sucking talk” and encouragement to quit (with prizes, of course). Ruby just got her new updated program so I need to organize that and set it in motion, too.
  • I am picking up 150 lb of wheat berries that I’ll throw (or, “gently place into”) the deep freezer for a wee bit (to kill off any hitchhiker bugs), and then blend into the mix I like to keep on hand for baking. If I could remember off the top of my head what it was, I would share that with you. Maybe I’ll leave it on a comment. When I catch my breath and can actually visit my own blog again.
  • And speaking of my blog (thank you for visiting me :), I have a new podcast to upload on first aid kits, hopefully in the next day or two. And, oooh, are you gonna like the one the one that comes up after that! It might just rock your grocery shopping world!
  • I decided that, yes, I would buy 20lbs of tomatoes to try my hand at tomato preservation. I’ll be borrowing my friend’s canner (mwah!) and giving it a go. I would love to try preserving my own salsa! And no, I’m not going to skin all of those tomatoes. And I ought to mention I have boxes of peppers and apples coming as well. All on the same day.
  • I was offered a trip to go mushroom hunting, and after I learned that my new mushroom friend had picked almost three quarters of a five gallon bucket of Chanterelle mushrooms in two hours…well, you can see that I can’t pass that up! Those will all be dehydrated. I hope.
  • I’ll be running off to the beach this weekend to scrapbook. Doesn’t that sound delicious? Well, yes….but my old photos and whatnots were stuffed into a closet about a year ago because I just didn’t have the time (or, rather, the inclination…) to deal with it. So I signed up to go on this retreat so I’d be forced to. And that means, well, I now I AM forced to dig everything out and actually *deal with it!* If it’s sunny this weekend, I’m afraid I’m going to be a grumpy scrapbooker who’d rather be walking the beach instead of cutting and pasting (that’s a figure of speech, of course, don’t send your consultants to me to try to keep the paste away!)
  • My dog is getting “fixed”. I’m not sure why they call it that when in reality he’s gonna get BROKEN, but somehow I’m going to have to train my 100 lb puppy to want to jump into my car, go for a ride, and then happily greet the vet and staff in an indoor setting. I’m wondering if chamomile or valerian works on dogs. Maybe a chanterelle would do the trick.
  • I need to harvest the honey from my hive and prepare my bee’s house for winter soon! This is a definite AFTER scrapbooking retreat deal, and I am hoping to have a nice, sunny, dry, warmish day to do it. And if you live up here, you can stop laughing or there’ll be no honey for you! (You know who you are!)
  • A few “would be nice….” things. One is to finish my basket; it’s very close but I haven’t touched it in a couple of weeks. And it’s definitely the time of year for me to make my homemade tinctures and teas for the cold and flu season. I’m just saying that when I DON’T prepare these things for my family, they end up sicker than sick. Something about Murphy. Lastly, we need to finish the mulching around the property to winterize the gardens and keep them looking spiffy for that buyer who, if he or she wants to buy our house, immediately cancels all of the above items to make room for packing, finding a place to live, and moving.

I ought to mention that in between all of this, I still need to maintain a house clean enough for any showings (for that buyer….yoooo hooo, where are you?….) and manage the homeschooling as well. And cook, because we all like to eat. So if you don’t hear from me in a while, it’s not because I’m in a daze over our new pregnancy (HA! AREN’T YOU GLAD YOU READ TO THE LAST WORD?!), but because real life is calling and if I don’t answer, I’ll get run over by my circumstances.

May you be blessed in the midst of your doings!

A Baby with Down Syndrome

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The local midwife called me wanting to know if I would be willing to meet with a mother who had just had a daughter with Down Syndrome.

“I’ll be there!” I said, and within days, I was oogling over the beautiful wee treasure she presented to me. “She’s so beautiful!”

The mother seemed very tentative, but I think she was happy to meet Ruby. Ruby is two years old. She is crawling, playing, curious, in and out of rooms with doors to happily close behind her…and usually very, very happy.

Do you ever feel like it’s all your fault?
Well, the thought did cross my mind once or twice. But if I were to take fault for the extra chromosome my baby carried, then I would have to take credit for the normal set my other children have. God is the one who crafted the baby within my womb; it is His handwork. I was simply a trusting, willing, vessel. And I don’t believe the Lord makes mistakes, but allows only what is for my good.

What programs did you do?
I was overwhelmed with the amount of “help” that inundated me within hours of Ruby’s birth. People were already talking about wonderful public (read: government sponsored by tax dollars) classes and programs and how, when Ruby turned three, she would go onto her very own special school bus. I am thankful I listened to my mother’s intuition and just simply said, often and quite clearly, “No, thank you, right now we are just working on nursing.” And it WAS work; she never nursed easily, but I was stubborn and persistant, knowing that breastmilk was going to be the very best for her, not running her all over town to have strangers cuddle and “stimulate” her.

And now?
Now we are involved with a neurodevelopmentalist who evaluates her three times a year, sets up an individualized program just for Ruby, and trains us (her parents) how to do the activities. Our FAMILY is Ruby’s team of therapists. The bus can go right on by, see ya buh-bye.

Do you worry about persecution?
Well, yes and no. Most folks will simply just look on and smile, or give a sympathetic hug, or share about their own child or relative with a disability. Just like when I garner attention with my six children about me, people will read my own face to see how wonderful or how awful my life really is. I smile a lot. I have six reasons to. But I do know that people, despite the philosophy d’jour, have real sin and ugliness in their hearts, and that out of the heart comes who they really are. I can’t (praise the Lord!) read their thoughts. I can only love through Jesus Christ, and without Him working in the lives of others, I don’t really expect wholesome acceptance of Ruby, even if they hide it well.

What about Ruby’s feelings?
She will probably be hurt. But we have all been hurt. You know, Ruby is blessed. She will know she is different, and it is a physical, obvious trait. But a whole lot of people walking the broad road don’t think they’re just as handicapped, just as fallen short of the way it ought to be, and in need of repair. The outside shell may look good, but the inside is a rot. We all have “special needs.”

What about Ruby’s future?
I have about as much control over her future as I do any of my children’s or even my own. Ultimately it is in God’s hands, and we just try to glorify Him in our thoughts, words and deeds while we are here. Only He knows when death will visit any of us, and it will visit ALL of us (unless He comes soon!!). Currently my hope and mindset is that Ruby will be able to take care of herself independently, but that either her parents or her siblings will be her protectors. But today we’re working on today.

The point is……enjoy and love and teach your babies, every minute. Your time with them is shorter than you think. I’ve had friends bury children; we are not due a whole lifetime with any of them. Just because you bare a child without a disability does not mean his or her heart is clean, and does not mean *whew!* now he or she will grow up without suffering a major tragedy. Trust your motherly instincts and keep them close (even, *gasp!*, “sheltering” them).

Ruby is not a burden. I am blessed.

With love,

The Quest for Thornlessness

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Psalms 68:19 Blessed be the Lord, who daily loadeth us with benefits, even the God of our salvation. Selah.

I miss writing. I really do. There are a lot of things I like to dabble in and do, but the only thing I really enjoy doing is writing. Even though it seems that my podcast is even more popular than my blog (thank you for listening!), I’d rather write you all a letter than sit in front of a microphone. Which isn’t bad, just different, y’know? The subject at hand for podcasting is always too long for a blog post. In any case, all day long the ideas, the phrases, the outlines form in my head. But unless I jot them down *poof* away they go. I’ve gotten too spoiled to use a pencil and now just wait for computer time. And when it comes, it is short. It’s like getting a mac truck going down the highway, setting it to cruise, and then *road construction* it is stop-start-stop. The Lord knows this. For some reason, I need to let this drive to write go, too.

I’m reading Disciplines of a Godly Woman. It is so good. I don’t mean “SO good” like “ya gotta read this best seller!” I mean “so GOOOOOD” like “it’s just the words I need from a woman sweet and humble enough to share her insight.” This book is re-setting my priorities. Each section, each chapter is a thoughtful exhortation and reminder to put first things first. Like prayer. Like worship. Like contentment and perseverance. I’m reminded that my life is NOT about what makes me happy, but about what the Lord–the God who gave me life and who redeemed me from my sin–wants from me. Like character. Like meekness. Like submission, obedience, a nurturing heart and an open mouth to tell others about Him. What does it matter if I get to do what I like if it means missing out on the work He wants to do in me?

Meekness is a hard road. Some days I feel wronged and misunderstood. Some days I know I am wronged. But what do I have, really? My self-righteousness (feeling like I’m a “good person”)? My morals (feeling like others fall short of my standards)? I’ve been working through The Quest for Meekness and Quietness of Spirit. I’m not sharing this because I’m humble enough to (ha) but because I long for that quietness in every moment. I don’t wish to be irked or irritated or provoked anymore. By anyone. Ever. Is that even possible? I do not know. But God is allowing plenty of opportunities in my life to choose the path of snippiness or humility. I want to be by His feet at all times, but sometimes it grieves my haughty spirit to do so. Sometimes the digging out of the thorns of self-righteousness hurts. It just seems better to let them stay there. But I want more of God, and He wants more of me to look like Him. Thornless.

In the midst of these things, the morning sun still continues to show up. What a mercy to have another day, again and again. The air just tastes sweet. Cleaned up from yesterday’s garbage. I never know what the day will bring. Naptime and cuddles? A sold house? A trip to the ER? It is a blessing to just wake up in my bed, to whisper “thank you” to Jesus for another day.

I’m in the barn in the mornings, milking my friend’s goat. It is pleasant. I love the smell of fresh hay and fresh shavings on the floor. I love getting milk for my own family. There is work involved; sometimes I have to (er, lovingly) shove her against the wall and hold her there when she is impatient and wants to be done. Sometimes I am too tired to go out in the morning. And sometimes the mosquitos are annoying. But do I really deserve better? I deserve nothing. It is all a gift, including the milk.

Part of fall-out from not writing is looking for other things to do with my hands. Well, why not learn to create a basket? I know I could buy one for a buck at the dollar store, but it’s not the same as playing with reeds and learning the rhythms of weaving. Maybe I’ll love making them. Or maybe this will be the only one! I will tell you that in doing these things, I have a much greater appreciation and respect for others that do them. Have you ever mocked or carelessly thrown away a handmade gift? If so, you threw away their time and love, something that is precious. It’s good to be careful with the souls of others, to show them gratitude, love, acceptance for their efforts. Even if you do not keep the gift.

I am pretty proud of myself (is that self-righteous?) for knitting my first pair of socks! Yes, the toe is wrong and I’ll have to take it out and redo it (someday I’ll thank my friend for that), but the idea of knitting a pair of socks is so wonderful to me! And they feel so good! I’ve already gone out and bought the next skein of yarn for pair number two. On another level, I spun my first ball of merino-silk yarn, and want to make a hat with that. I’m such a fiber and fabric crazy-woman. I also have a stash of lovely red fabric just waiting for my next quilt; a red and white something-or-other. And another dear friend is teaching me to read patterns and to sew. Such lovely people in my life.

I am homemaking and homeschooling six children besides these things. Sometimes I just can’t believe my life, I am so thankful. My children are with me, all day long. To some moms that may sound like a curse (for the mom), or perhaps a horrible situation (for the children). I just am sad for them (is that self-righteous?). Building relationship and character are so important. We have a nation full of independently minded whiners who expect to get all the entertainment and goodies they “deserve” just for breathing. I’d rather build a nation of inter-dependent families members who work hard and are grateful for anything they get, including the air they breathe. Staying at home, doing laundry, teaching my own children how to read….small pebbles for the future big ripples. God’s grace is abundant in gifting me this life.

So that is where my little speck-of-dust-in-the-sandy-beaches life has been lately. I can tell you that some days my little “happy home” wears me down and I am tired. That is when I am most at risk to cultivate a pity party and rehash the wrongs others have brought upon me or to pitch a fit about why things aren’t the way I want them. I don’t think anyone’s home is perfectly happy all the time. The question is not how happy is your home; it is….what is God teaching through this trial or that event or from the words of that person? What fruit is He seeking from you and from me in the midst of daily-ness? And, are we willing to lay down our lives to give Him His due: glory, worship, honor?

It is worth it. He is worthy. Pull out the thorns, Lord.

Blessings,

Real Life Happens Outside of the Computer

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This is from our road trip; the scenery was beautiful!

Life’s been so full lately that I am hardly missing my online world! My computer time has been almost nonexistant, and my blogs unread and unfollowed. Other than tweeting with my friends and answering a few emails a day, it’s been pretty quiet (for me!). Add to that our typical schedule-less household for the summer and I have suppers prepared at 8:00 and children not going to bed until 10:00!

Showings on the house continue with very positive feedback, but even that traffic seems to be slowing a bit. I am not concerned; I know the Lord has gone ahead and is preparing for our next home so I will content myself to practice patience rather than run ahead of Him. Not that I don’t want to start packing, like today! There’s been a lot of talk in our family of “what if…..” so who knows where we’ll end up or what we’ll do. Well….GOD knows (smile).

We found a lovely new home for our two milk goats and supplies, and with the money I bought a discounted spinning wheel. Oh, it’s so relaxing to spin! I just love the feel of the wool through my fingers and to see it twist into yarn is so amazing. Sometimes I listen to my iPod, either to audio Bible or to Wretched Radio. I can see from the photo I need to work on my posture!

One thing that is helping my posture is running. I’m two months into training for a 5K in September, and although I am still slow (it takes me 3o minutes to run 2 miles…is that slow?), I am toning up and feeling good. A couple friends are doing this with me, and that makes it easier. Friends are good to have, are they not?

In the meantime, I took the entire herd of milking goats from a friend of mine who needed a break from their care as her 3 year-old son is undergoing cancer treatment. It is a big help to me as well, as I am learning to milk her goat and getting milk for our own family now. I love learning ways to provide wholesome food for my own family, right from my own yard. It’s very empowering to see all that wonderful frothy fresh milk every morning!

Speaking of the yard (or garden), we’re about finished picking peas, and have been eating salad and strawberries for a bit now. I don’t have a *lot* of any one crop, but I am looking forward to drying and powdering all the garlic I pulled! And I am very hopeful that I’ll have a good amount of honey to pull this early fall as the hive is going strong. I dream of having large amounts of produce to can, dry, freeze…someday, maybe. Tonight I traded three dozen eggs with a friend who brought me a large bag of produce from her garden. It’s so nice to help one another.

I have a gentleman coming soon to help me set up my loom, and I have designs to create cotton dishtowels with the instruction of an experienced lady. I cannot wait! I think working on a loom would be a wonderful thing for Ruby to do when she is ready, and it could possibly be a source of income for her as well.

I am reading a lot! Books on spinning, on yarn, on living out Christian principles and on theology. Books on various health topics, homeschooling and magazines of all sorts. I wonder if I’ll actually finish any of them this summer, as I pick from here and there instead of just finishing one. I just got snail mail from a dear friend in California, and need to write her back. And I’m picking at projects here and there, trying to finish them up before our next adventure.

Visitors are plentiful and often; it is a joy to share our home with others. It’s so neat to actually have visitors that take us up on the annual Christmas letter “if you’re ever this way…”

In between all of that, I am hoping to finish knitting my first pair of socks under the watchful eye of my friend. We have a field trip planned to a basket-supply store in the city with the basket-making momma of a friend; I am envisioning sitting on the porch and weaving a basket or two in the early fall. Maybe I’ll get around to watercoloring a picture and maybe I’ll actually sew that dress I wanted to do. A friend of mine comes over once a week to help me learn to read sewing patterns and to do things correctly on the machine. Like I said, it’s a little of this and a little of that. It sounds like a lot, but it’s really nothing heavy. And have you noticed how many other people are involved in these projects?! There are so many people around that know how to do stuff. Most folks are thrilled to pass on their skills and knowledge!

I need to finish painting the rails on our porch(es) before summer goes away. And at some point I’m going to have to reorganize my homeschool and schedule for the fall as well. All this to say…I think living real life is so much better than living in a computer world. I’d encourage you to go outside and grow and cut some flowers, sign up for that cake decorating class you’ve been wanting to do, and spend a few hours in the kitchen making sticky jam with your toddlers. Summer is short; fill it with real life!

Blessings,

On Marriage

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Within a span of two days, I’ve been told that two women I know have picked up and left their homes and husbands for other men (who also left their wives), moving out of both state and mind. One was an acquaintance whom I considered a happy, enthusiastic, Christ-loving woman; she had also shared her testimony to a small gathering I was a part of. The other was a beautiful woman who I spent years laughing with and witnessing to. Both are gone.

It’s hard to know how to feel. Surprise. Anger. Sadness. Part of me understands, the part of me that gets prideful enough to feel I deserve better than I’m getting, the part of me that downsizes the overwhelming grace I’ve received from the Lord and upsizes the sin in my heart. No marriage is perfect, and I suppose that is the point.

That longing for love, acceptance, gentleness, protection? It is legitimate, I think, having a heart created by God to seek and to know Him. Our husbands sometimes fail in their husband-ing, but are we so blinded that we cannot see how we fail as wives as well?

It seems foolishness to expect two sinners to stay the course, to stay married. But God loves to take what seems foolish and turn it into something beautiful to behold, whether we see that in this life or the next. As Christian women, we have everything we need, including LOVE, from our heavenly Father. We have His Word to read and to feed our souls. We have His Holy Spirit to cheer our hearts and to guide us. He knows our almost covetous longings and our shortcomings, and yet He still meets us and gives us grace upon grace. Is His arm too short to bless us as we stay in our marriages, trusting Him to do His work in it?

I wasn’t there to see the fights or how awful things got in these homes. I don’t know if there was any abuse or infidelity on the husband’s part. All I see is the fall out. One of the husbands was encouraged by the church to leave. The other lost his house, saw his business plummet, and then died within the year in a horrific car accident. Both households have grown children who will never be the same.

It is sobering. Walk wisely, wives, examining yourselves in truth and forsaking those little stirrings of things that could be so much better “if”. Repent of your own sins, taking them to God, before they give birth to action, and above all, recognize that, like you, your husband is just trying to find his own way in his marriage. Love and grace cover a multitude of sins, and starting in our own homes is the place to begin.

May the Lord bless you,

Summer Goals and the Art of Learning

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Every summer when the children pack up their schoolwork for a short while my mind goes into overdrive planning all of the things I myself can be learning in the time I usually spend teaching them. Suddenly I have hours of blocks of time that I can devote to research and reading and gardening and whatever else I’d like. So I came up with a *wish list* of things I want to do and learn, knowing that at best I’d only be able to dabble in a bit of each if I didn’t want to wholeheartedly focus on only one or two. Here are my thoughts about what I’d like to do:

  • spinning: no, not the exercise kind. The kind where I take a big pile of wool and turn it into yarn. And then I take the yarn and turn it into whatever I like. A kind woman at the old milling town nearby is teaching me what she knows at her shop (for free!). I just love the quietness of spinning and the wonder of turning a big soft pile of wool into a beautiful bobbin-full of yarn. I’m such a newbie I don’t even know the right technical words! I bought this book to help me learn:

  • weaving: did you read about the amazing gift I received? I have calls into two different people to help me set it up properly and get it going. I just may use all that spun yarn to create lap blankets. I also want to play with cotton and make kitchen towels. Oh, this is going to be fun! I am reading more about weaving from here:

  • yarn learning: because I’m fairly new at the all of this, I picked up this book all about yarn to read. I am really enjoying it a lot!

  • watercolors: I’ve always liked the look of watercolors, and I thought I’d take the children and myself outside for some art time. I am reading through and planning to play with the exercises out of this book:

  • basketry: I have plans to make it into the city this summer to visit a basketry supplier, and I know a couple of people who know the basics (yoo hooooo…). I have lots of baskets around my home and know I would enjoy sitting on the porch and trying to craft one of my own. Here is a book I like on the subject:

  • In the kitchen, I am going to be very busy making lots of jams and jellies for the year, plus dehydrating seasonings. For the “new” thing I want to learn, I am going to try my hand at making crackers, because we go through them like crazy!
  • I have lots of writing to do. This is a challenge for me as my husband and I share a computer that goes to work with him. Someday I may (or not) have my own, but in the meantime I just content myself with picking at projects here and there. I am working on putting my last blog into a book format, and also am putting together From My Kitchen Table 2 (see here for the first one). At some point I’ll put ISBN numbers on them and sell them through Amazon, etc. I also have a paper to write to finish up my masters degree in Holistic Nutrition, and will be writing about treating dental caries through nutrition. Doesn’t that sound interesting?
  • I’ve given up whining about not feeling at top notch and promised myself, for my 40th birthday year, to do all I can to be healthy. The first thing I did was a detox, and then I made appointments with the dentist and the naturpath. I got my hormone levels checked and have plans to check the heavy metals in my system as well. A friend spurred me onto running my first 5K this September for the good of fighting the slave trafficking problem (did you know that slavery is worse TODAY than it has EVER been?!). So, I am currently running on the Couch to 5K program and loving it; I’m starting week 5 tomorrow!

Other things continue: Bible study and memory, book reading, gardening, etc. Is there anything you are wanting to learn? It’s never too late!

Blessings,

Ruby’s Birth Story

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Ruby turned two last month! What a complete joy she is, still.

As I watch my other children grow and develop so quickly, I am blessed with this wee one who is on her own time, slow motion aging. She is just now on her hands and knees to crawl, and isn’t making words yet, but her loving demeanor and ready smile is a blessing to us all. Sometimes I just look at her and wonder why I would have ever worried about having a child with Down Syndrome. Someday she will meet the Lord face to face and be healed and whole, but in the meantime I am glad she is a part of our family.

Because we are homeschooling and discipling our children ourselves, Ruby stays where she is loved: home. We work with a neurodevelopmentalist to create a program that fits Ruby, and her parents and five siblings are her physical therapists, speech teachers and nutritionists. So far she is thriving and I have no reason to believe that she won’t reach her greatest potential under our loving roof.

Unlike adopting a special needs child or having an ultrasound in hand ahead of time, Ruby was a surprise to us at birth. Her birth itself was adventurous! My midwife abandoned me the morning I went into labor (via email, no less), *feeling* like I didn’t like her (what?!). I was left with driving around town that morning, in labor, to get an ultrasound first of all; there was a question of this baby being breech and now was the time to know for sure. I had trusted this midwife to birth a possible breech and had full confidence I could do so under her experienced hands. But like so many people these days, she trusted her (very wrong) feelings instead of what was true.

I didn’t know of any midwives I could just call on while in labor (“umm…I know you don’t know me…but could you help me deliver my baby, like within the next 12 hours or so?”) so I ended up at the hospital (where else was I supposed to go?). I still remember how cold the doctors were, standing there in their blue suits with their arms crossed asking how come I didn’t have any prenatal care done and listing all the labs I would need because my midwife was dragging her heels to send those labs in. I was protesting in between contractions and was frankly very frightened! The nurse attending me was cold as well, pushing paperwork for me to sign in between the shooting pains without so much as a comforting hand.

So, the baby was declared breech and, because they don’t *do* breech births, I was told I would be having a c-section. In the morning. After their other patients who had appointed surgeries were finished. I was in dismay! They were telling me I had to continue in labor all through the night and then not be able to birth my own baby in the end anyway. I felt nauseated and made my way to the bathroom.

“Oh God!” I remember crying. “Save me from this torment!” And then the blood gushed, and suddenly I was given priority. Oh, how I love Jesus.

I watched the clock tick for the “one hour” rule post surgery, And then I watched it tick longer. And longer. After more than two hours, I finally got a call from the nursery. It was my husband. He told me, “…they think she has Down Syndrome….”

“I don’t care!!!” I wailed. “I want my baby!!!”

The Lord provided me shelter in the hospital as a boarder at a time when other moms with their babies in the nursery were being told to leave to make room for delivering mothers. He also spared Ruby from a heart defect, which she had a 50% chance of having. While we were in the hospital those ten days waiting and hoping for her to maintain her own air intake, a friend arrived to deliver her baby. And then that very same night we mourned the loss of our other friend’s toddler, having died in a horrible accident that very day.

I waited two months for Ruby’s first smile. In the meantime, I read lots of books and literature about Down Syndrome. I consoled family members, which was difficult as I felt I, myself, needed none. I was satisfied and happy with my baby, and horrified that more than 90% of mothers with a Down Syndrome diagnosis in utero would abort this precious gift of God.

I am enjoying every moment with Ruby. I feel entrusted with a special jewel, straight from the Lord. I am certain she will live at home with us as an adult, and I am dreaming of what we could do together, she and I: maybe quilting or gardening or weaving or some sort of ministry. I am thankful she has a wonderful daddy and five fabulous siblings who love her so much, as well.

Some people may believe that the circumstances surrounding her birth were ordained by God to save her life. To me that sounds too much like the “end justifying the means”. I believe that what happened was plain cruelty; what midwife abandons a woman (in labor, no less!) who has entrusted her to deliver her baby?! I believe that what was meant for evil, God meant for the good of Ruby being born where she would have the best care, that He turned these things for our good because He loves us.

So Ruby is two. I do praise the Lord for this very special child and for all the ways that He will use her to grow me up and to teach me that He alone is trustworthy and neverfailing. It is a joy to be His.

God’s Hands Overflow

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I don’t know why the Lord blesses me so. All I can think is that it must give Him pleasure to do so, and to show His goodness for a weak woman such as I. There is no way I can bring forth such amazing provision for myself, and I am truly humbled. For example, not two months ago, a woman from our church said she had something for me. I brightened and said, “What? A hug? A prayer? A blessing?!” She laughed and said, “Well…yes! AND…I’ve decided to give you my serger because I am not using it and thought you might.” A serger!! It is one of those machines that I hoped to own someday, but could never have enough extra money to purchase. So I am thankful. And she got her hug!

A couple of weeks ago I found myself in an amazing fiber shop. Well, I ought to call it a shoppe because of the historical little town it is in. I just stood agape at all of the beautiful woolen yarns and spinning wheels and I think touched just about everything in her store. And then I saw the store owner’s loom, and we made conversation. About my yiayia who lived in a village in Greece and made blankets for all of her grandchildren. About how I tried to track the loom down but no one was much interested in doing that. And so on.

So, the store owner put her hand on her chin and thoughtfully looked at me and said, “You know…I have a loom at home I’ve been hoping to give to a good home….”

Give? Give? GIVE?!!!!!

I did not answer right away as I was in shock, but actually left the store. And then returned within the hour to say, very sheepishly and quietly, “yes.” And so here it is! In my home and waiting for me to gain instruction. To say that I am awed by it would be an understatement.

It is a countermarche loom, and from what I’ve been reading, that means that tying it up is not too easy, but that the weaving itself is. I’m thankful that it is warped and ready! It has historical value. It was built by a Russian immigrant for his daughter (granddaughter?), who apparently gained commendations for her weaving well into her old age. The loom needed to go somewhere where it would be loved. And do I ever!

The wood is beautiful. The parts are amazing. The size is incredible. And there is just a little bit of weaving from the original Russian owner left on it; it feels like a blessing, a handing down. I don’t think I’ll ever throw away this little weave.

My 8 and 12 year old daughters are just as excited. Maybe these things are not really for me. Maybe these things are really for my four daughters (the 6 and 2 year olds coming up from behind). I do not know. All I know is that I am grateful to God, and awed by his gifts. I hope to do right by them, and to glorify Him in it all.

Blessings,

The Value of Tenacity

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TENAC’ITY, n. [L. tenacitas, from teneo, to hold.]

Philippians 2:16 Holding forth the word of life; that I may rejoice in the day of Christ, that I have not run in vain, neither laboured in vain.

Nehemiah brought it on himself, I think. After all, when the surrounding citizens sought to join him in rebuilding the wall in Jerusalem, he told them not only “no”, but “ye have no portion, nor right, nor memorial, in Jerusalem” (Neh 2:20), even though these folks claimed to follow God as well. His drawing the line stimulated them to wrath, indignation and mocking. Conspiracies abounded to not only fight against Jerusalem, but to hinder the work of the wall.

How much easier it would have been to just offer friendship and bread to these people. Give a little, take a little. What’s a little idol here and there? As long as you’re perceived as amiable enough, won’t that be an opening to relationship and to teaching about the true God?

We could learn a lot from Nehemiah. In the face of opposition, he set his face toward God, and planted his feet firmly. In the midst of the results of this stand, he did not despair or blame God. He did not sway like the wind. Nevertheless, we made our prayer unto our God, and set a watch against them day and night, because of them (Neh 4:9).

Jesus Himself is the fullness of tenacity. How many times has he spoken thus to me?

  • Matthew 26:40 …What, could ye not watch with me one hour?
  • Matthew 8:26 And he saith unto them, Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?…
  • Matthew 14:31 …O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?
  • Galatians 1:6 I marvel that ye are so soon removed from him that called you into the grace of Christ unto another gospel…
  • Galatians 5:7 Ye did run well; who did hinder you that ye should not obey the truth?

If you are a Christian, do you not marvel the hold of Jesus in your own life? And what sin we fall into! What sloughs of despond! What worry and concern about what our friends or enemies will think! What bitterness and envy and shallowness and self-centered pity-parties! If it isn’t the surrounding culture attacking and hindering us, it is we, ourselves!

And yet the Lord does not let go, He does not put us aside, nor turn to the left or right of the Father’s will. Rather, He draws us near with lovingkindness and compassion. He always is about the Father’s work. Ought we not to do the same?

John 8:29 And he that sent me is with me: the Father hath not left me alone; for I do always those things that please him.

Many mothers have “ought”s that are lying in rubble. I ought to smile more. I ought to keep my home clean. I ought to stay home with my children. I ought to respect my husband. I ought to prepare healthy meals. I ought to homeschool. I ought to lose some weight. I ought to spend less money. I ought to encourage my friends more. I ought…

What is needed more often is NOT more of culture or even self-examination, as the mirrors have been in plenty and we are well aware of the stones and blemishes. What is needed is the attitude of Nehemiah, one of tenacity and perseverance, one of “nevertheless”. We will never get to the point of dedicating our finished work to the Lord if we give up the fight of putting up those walls.

Are you trying to exercise more? Fight for the time and the space to do it. Are you faltering in respecting your husband? Fight for the wisdom of God in learning how to do that more. Are you losing your children’s hearts? Fight for a heart of prayer and for tenacity in proper discipling.

The answer to hindrances is not to just sit amongst the rocks, cutting stones into our flesh crying out “woe is me”. The answer is to act on the promises of God to lead and to guide you in the building of your marriage and motherhood and home, and to just get up and do it. Forget the mocking, laugh at the impediments, smile at the future to come and pray hard. And remember that it is never by your own works anyway, but by God’s grace.

Psalms 16:8 I have set the LORD always before me: because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved.

These days, a joyful mother fixed on her God and her home are an oddity. I imagine it is somewhat like trying to build a city in the middle of a culture of rock throwing. But go ahead, build it. Ask for godly help, obtain the tools, and most of all, rely on God to persevere through it all. Be tenacious. Run the race. You can do it. He is able.

Blessings,

Choices and Change

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I find myself slowly picking through my front pasture a lot while training my maremma to follow my voice. If he doesn’t listen, he gets corrected. Somehow, I understand that discipline in a real, personal way (smile). At eight months old, he is larger than my nine year old yellow labrador, and his wolfish good looks play nicely with his puppy exuberance. I let him run off to play a lot, knowing he’ll come to me when I ask him to.

In the meantime, I’m running my black muck boots through the greenery. Plantain….dock….yarrow… I do find it a little surprising that after all this time I am finally starting to recognize not only the weeds under my feet, but to know what they’re good for. I didn’t think it could ever happen, but there I find myself: bug bites….anemia…fever…

It’s almost meditative. In a Christian way, of course.

It’s hard to know how much to share, given the very nature of worldwide eyes, because pearls are usually fodder for pigs and precious things ought not to be given freely. But I will say, for the time, that a house a home does not make, and given the choice between (a) the current brick-n-morter and (b) freedom for my husband to follow other dreams…I think it is most fitting and proper to happily and most contentedly hand over the keys to release him.

…chamomile…catmint….red clover…

What power does a woman have over her man to drive him to provide? To me it is almost frightening. A wife whose standard is beyond basics, say, fresh water and a warm shelter and clean clothing, puts the prod to her husband’s back. He loves her of course, and even if she is hard to love, his drive to properly (“properly” being defined in part by her expectations) take care of his family may very well send himself to an early grave with pressing so hard for so long for….what?….that which is someday slated to burn and will never be fit to accompany anyone beyond death.

So. We are grateful to be in a position to choose to sell our home. Yes, the market is hard right now. Yes, our home is down in value. But we are ready to bless another family with our amazing house and to make different choices for our family. And if God wants it sold, then sold it shall be. And there in the meadow I sometimes think of stupid things like I’ll have to change the photo on my header. A small thing. I think.

…shotweed…miner’s lettuce…(nibble nibble)…

The truth is that how we live and what we talk about presses into our children. Our standards become their standards. What they grow up in and around become what is “normal” and right and true. It is what they pass on to your grandchildren. If our children eat cake every day, then that is the appetite they will have for proper food. How they spend their time, how they see us walk…our sons will rise forming in their inmost being what is expected of a true man, and our daughters will grow expecting their husbands to meet the standards we’ve crafted.

So…our house is on the market. It may not sell. It may sell tomorrow. I do not know. In the meantime, I am continuing to spruce it up and lay it down. Outside, I am watching my honeybees gather pollen from scotchbroom and chives. I am pressing more and more into the Lord my God, thanking Him in every circumstance, and grateful for the opportunity to learn to love my husband more in the ways that he truly needs.

Blessings,

Wimpy Evangelism…is Better Than None

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One of the problems with reading the Bible as plain English is that sometimes the commands given are written….in plain English. What am I supposed to do with this?

Matthew 28:18-20 And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. Amen.

It’s that whole whopper of a two letter word in there, following the action command of another two letter word: Go YE….

Me? No thanks, Lord. I’d rather just keep You all to myself and we could just interact and You could just bless me and hear my prayers and bring others to Yourself all by Yourself because isn’t that what You really do anyway with all that power so why do I have to be involved with telling anyone…?

I’ve yet to win an argument with God. Not that I don’t try. Just yesterday I tried to excuse the promptings God gave me to GO YE but when I followed up with peeking into the Bible, He greeted me out of the blue with:

Isaiah 63:7-8 I will mention the lovingkindnesses of the LORD, and the praises of the LORD, according to all that the LORD hath bestowed on us, and the great goodness toward the house of Israel, which he hath bestowed on them according to his mercies, and according to the multitude of his lovingkindnesses. For he said, Surely they are my people, children that will not lie: so he was their Saviour.

I tweeted my friends what I was up to so that they could bug me about it later. Nothing like accountability, I say.

So, it was a beautiful day and my friend canceled my babysitting her children anyway so I couldn’t stay home (nice touch, there, Lord). I gathered up my tracts and my children to go on some errands and then head to a park, where, I hoped, I could talk with some other mothers about Jesus.

I will tell you that I have talked with others about the Lord, so it’s not foreign. It’s just never easy. It’s a whole lot of fishing into an agnostic post-modern pond, and no one gets up in the morning raring to gather rude comments or dirty looks. So, my typical tract tact is to just leave them in places. Like public restrooms. Or shopping carts. That sort of thing. Stealth evangelism. Safe.

Store number one. Forgot the tracts in the van. Oh well, I couldn’t go back to get them, could I? (Although….would I have gone back for my wallet?!)

Went through a drive through. Didn’t give them out to the rushing employees. Strike two.

And then…pretended I didn’t hear the Lord when I was in conversation with a mom at the park. Lalalalalala…oh look it’s time to go….

How wretched do you think I felt? I will tell you. PRETTY STINKING WRETCHED!!

And then……and then……my friend tweeted me on my cell phone. Something akin to “how many have you given out yet?”

I commenced imaginary multiple head bashing against the steering wheel.

“Ok, Jesus. I hear you. Let me get rid of the stack in my pocket before I get home. To REAL PEOPLE. Help me not be so stupid and weak.”

2 Corinthians 12:9 And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

(Yes, you too can have memorized Bible verses pop into your head in the middle of Costco at the most opportune times)

So, we sought out every sample lady we could find, sampled her sample and then gave her a “million dollar tip”. We gave the bagger at the check stand one, too. And you know what? All were gracious and happy to get them. They thought they were cool. And best of all, my pocket was empty when I got back into the car.

I don’t know if I’ll ever give out hundreds of tracts or lead another person to Christ. I hope I do! All I am sure of is that God’s commands are pretty clear, and that He saves others using weak folks and foolish preaching.

So, I say…teach me, Jesus, and grow in me a heart that sorrows more and more every day for the lost and perishing. Give me Your voice. And let me grow to love You enough to obey, and to love people enough to tell them about You.

Blessings,

Want Happy Kids?

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“I just want my kids to be happy.”

Proverbs 28:14 Happy is the man that feareth alway: but he that hardeneth his heart shall fall into mischief.

Making our children happy is long sought over in the quest of parenting. The choices we make in food, fun and clothing, the discipline issues that are (or aren’t) dealt with and the techniques used thereby, and the visions in our heads of our grown, adult children usually revolve around this hope of creating happy people.

Happiness, however, in the Biblical sense of things does not have anything to do with molding adults who are healthy or well-educated or even wealthy for that matter. Children that end up with college degrees, climbing careers or McMansions on cul-de-sacs are in no wise guaranteed happiness by those things; just look around at the disengaged, angry and whiny adults around you!

Do we really want our children happy? Then methinks our focus will be on different goals and different means to those ends. Perusing the Bible finds happiness coming from:

  • becoming more and more like the Lord, saved by Him and looking unto Him for help (Deut 33:29)

  • a hunger for the God’s wisdom above any man-centered wisdom, which of course seems as foolishness to unrepentant people (2 Chron 9:7, Pro 3:13, Pro 3:18, 1 Cor 2:14, 1 Cor 3:19)

  • a thankfulness for the trials God allows, and for God’s corrections and chastisements (Job 5:17, Ps 94:12, 1 Thes 5:18, Rev 3:19).

  • allowing the Lord to build our families, understanding that the baring of children is a blessing, not a burden (Ps 127:5)

  • learning to work, and to work hard (Lam 3:27, Ps 128:2). This involves creating an appetite for work and for the satisfaction that comes from a job well done. Happiness does not come from “letting kids be kids” and doing all chores around the home while their eyes and minds are quietly imbibing movie or gaming videos.

  • belonging to God, trusting Him, and acknowledging Him as LORD (Ps 144:15, Pro 16:20). This means more than raising a child who simply “believes in God” as the somewhat 92% plus of adults in our country say….but do not heed.

  • relying on God for help, putting hope in HIM, not in our circumstances or dreams (Ps 146:5)

  • fostering a merciful attitude toward the downtrodden, the weak, the elderly, the poor (Pro 14:21)

  • growing in holiness, loving God’s law and hating (yes, hating) sin as defined by God (Ps 101:3, Ps 119:128, Pro 29:18).

  • maintaining a clear conscience before God (Rom 14:22)

  • enduring in the faith through trial, pain and suffering (James 5:11), through the light afflictions of scorn and even the heavier weight of the terror of persecution (1 Peter 3:14), knowing that even in receiving reproach for the name of Christ, God is glorified (1 Peter 4:14)

The way I see it, much of what we think ought to be done with our children have nothing to do with these goals. If we are truly honest with wanting happiness for our children, then we must schedule and direct our days to reflect God’s goals and to seek after what HE says brings happiness.

What does this look like? Repenting of your sins first of all, and receiving Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. Then, spending ample time in God’s Word (no Bible, no breakfast; no read, no feed), reading about and supporting missionaries, seeking ways to serve others, learning to pray and to use a concordance to study the Bible (and then actually doing it), building a family with children, and teaching the young ones to work. It means that when trials and hard things arise, God’s throne is the very first place to we run to. These are the appetites we must foster in our children if happiness is truly one of our goals.

May you be blessed as you seek real, abiding happiness for your children, serving the Lord in His ways as you seek to become more like Him.

John 13:17 If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them.

Why I Left Facebook

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The hard part about explaining why I left Facebook is that the vast majority of my real and internet friends still participate in it. So no matter my reasons for departing, some will necessarily feel condemned for their continued practice. That is not my intent, but if anyone else has been feeling the uncomfortableness of it all, then let your own pruners sharpen. Otherwise, this is my own gig.

I left Facebooking because:

* I love God more. I will tell you that since I joined the party that never sleeps, I read less of my Bible. I haven’t memorized any Scripture in ages. And instead of conversing with the Lord during the day, I am crafting tweets that I know will run through Facebook. But I miss HIM. And I understand now why He didn’t want me doing that in the first place. I just ignored His council and joined up anyway…because I “know better” about these things, I guess Photobucket. Again, not judging anyone for their own walk, just observing mine and not liking the view. I figure if I’m bored in the evening and just want to unwind, let me crack open my Bible or pray while I knit instead of finding the laptop.

* I love my friends. I am blessed to have a handful of real, deep, loving friendships. Yet I feel that even those relationships have waned as we now “keep in touch” via Facebook. For me (again, this is for me), relationships just are not built on “checking in” on one another’s publicly posted snippet of a day of what’s on their mind. I would rather talk with someone, walk with someone, share a cup of hot whatever and share our hearts. I’d rather make the time to meet or talk or write or even email one-on-one than try to keep up with trifles to the masses. I am not one of those blessed by deeper relationships via social networking, (although I had really hoped that would be the case with some of the people in my life) and I really don’t care if I ever find my second cousin twice removed, but I’m glad for the 400 some-odd million people that apparently are and do. Instead, I found it rather annoying when I, in person, inquired about a topic only to be told that it had been posted on Facebook (like, I should be totally up on everyone’s post at all times!). Man, 400 million people!

* I love my husband. One of my concerns is the very real occurrence of past boyfriends seeking me out. This may sound really very lame, but I do not care (it must be one of those *turning 40* things). I’ve had men find me in person and find me by phone. I had a man talk with my husband and offer him a beer! The very sad thing is that although I love my husband to all ends, I am but a weak and sinful woman who recognizes the pull of “what if”. When half the marriages are ending in divorce, even in Christian homes, and when sites such as Facebook are reconnecting old flames like wildfire, I am not so prideful to think that our marriage is one that cannot by any means fall. I choose to protect ours. Again, not judging! Go ahead and check in with your old love, go ahead and keep him as a “friend” (you do see that I am NOT recommending that, though!), but I’m keeping my heart out of it for the sake of my husband’s. And mine.

* I love my children. When I am “checking” the computer multiple times a day or answering comments or sending texts on my cell, I may be thinking that I am giving importance to the person on the other end. What my children see, however, is that I’m giving importance to a piece of machinery. I am teaching by my actions that watching the back of my head is more important than spending time with me baking cookies, pulling weeds, or even just reading a book on the couch. What they are learning is that the computer and Internet is where life is *at*. I disagree! Life is enjoyed with God! And in smiling and playing with my children, and in feeding my hens, and in basking in whatever slice of sunshine I can get up here in the northwest!

* Lastly (I think), I love learning. I’ve been one step, one thesis away, from my masters degree for…..a year? I have books to read (and write!) and projects to tackle. It just sounds lame to me that “I don’t have time” to learn to (whatever) but somehow I found time to write a couple thousand news blurbs. Which were all about me. Like this blog (hmmm….) I want to learn to crochet. And soak grains for baking. And milk dairy goats. And just plain to better keep the home, mommy the kids, and love my husband. I’m a work in progress whose lifetime is a vapor. I want to suck the marrow out of life, REAL life.

Ultimately, the Facebook distraction was fodder for neglect. And it wasn’t important enough for me to figure out how to let it coexist with my life.

This is hard because I care too much what other people think. But that alone, perhaps, is the best reason for letting go of Facebook. I don’t condemn others for the choices they are making with their time and relationships; I don’t have time or the heart or the mental capacity to send zingers of judgment. I still care about all of my “friends”. I still want to know you more. But if I’m to be a real friend to you, your heart is going to have to be a little more exposed to mine in the process from now on, and not just through casual published headlines. It’s gonna cost you time and effort and risk. And that is why, I expect, I’ll always have just a “handful” of real friends with relationships that transcend technology, even if we do share a 140 letter tweet on occasion.

Beginning of the End???

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I’m turning 40 tomorrow. The funny thing is I keep forgetting. And when I do remember, I find myself watching my children more, trying to embed deeply into my memory the flavor of being surrounded by six of them all day long. I’m listening to them more, hugging them more, looking into their eyes more. Recently, I put out the plates to prep them for supper portions and just stood there looking at them all. I felt a little like I was mourning. Today, a full life of husband, home and children. Tomorrow….what?

I’m really not trying to borrow trouble. But twice I’ve been told by well-meaning older women that 40 was the beginning of the end. Upcoming: aging in warp speed, the end of fertility, and rebellious teens (I’m still not buying that one, I don’t care how stupid that makes me).

It’s a little depressing. Even though I did get carded last week buying an Irish beer for my husband’s St. Patrick’s Day supper (THAT was funny).

Sometimes I really doubt myself about how content I really am. Maybe I’m not *happy* at all, but just snowed under delusions of how blessed my life is. Why do I feel *patted* on the head by people who claim to understand more or know what life’s all about, but can’t seem to walk in their own peace with Jesus Christ? Why do I even care? I hear 40 is also when you begin to really not care what other people think. But even that seems pretty self-serving, too. I do care about people. Mostly that they would be saved and come into His rest. Which means they generally know that. Pat pat pat.

So I looked at the long counter of empty waiting plates and I just got teary-eyed. I want to be my best and give it, too. I want to Jesus to complete His work in me, now, before I die. I want my husband to have an amazing wife, and my children to have a steadfast and faithful loving mother. I want my lips full of praise all day long and my heart full of faith and not fear. If forty is the beginning of the end, then I am doomed. Because certainly I have not arrived at any sort of mountain top yet. And my life is not about my *want*s anyway; it’s about God’s working in my life to mirror His Son, more and more. I just wish I could look in the mirror already and say, “Oh, hi Jesus!”

I wish I were happier about my birthday. But I think my Father is pleased with it, so where else shall I go? Tomorrow I am 40. By God’s grace.

Psalms 51:10 Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.

A Valentine You Can Afford

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When we were dating, we had no money. But still we splurged on gourmet expensive suppers and flowers, thanks to Mr. Visa. Now we’re married, older and wiser, and we’ve kicked Mr. Visa out of our lives, which generally means that the high-end eating in AND out came to a slow and painful death, but…on the positive side of things, I learned to cook!

We’ve been affected by the recession like most people, and running our own business makes it quite a ride. This year (like last year….and the last…) I don’t have extra slushy money to go buy my husband a cool new tool from Home Depot. Instead I decided that the best gift I could give us was a really clean and tidy bedroom, one that feels restful from the moment you enter.

This year, my offering for our bedroom was new pillowcases. I made these pillow cases myself last week with some vintage looking fabric. My husband says they remind him of his grandmother. I laughed and said that it was a good thing we happen to have loved her very, very much!

Making pillow cases is not too hard. Just google “free pillowcase patterns”. And no, they don’t have to match your sheets!

Don’t they look lovely next to the colored artwork my 5 year old thought Mom and Dad would love above their bed?

We’ve never bought anything expensive for our home or bedroom, which is a good thing because I love the look of shabby chic/flea market/make it do. The bed is a futon with a locally made mattress of cotton and wool stuffing. And the round chair was one I bought from my college days. It’s still my favorite place to sit. I made the quilts myself. The rest of the blankets are….well, old. But clean and well cared for. I make the bed every day. I suppose every woman has their “gotta do’s” in their home; this one is one of mine. I find it soothing to see it during the day, and delicious to climb into a crisp well-made bed in the evening.

Here’s a close up of one of my quilts. I just love the whimsy little birdy!

I like a little bit of black in every room. In our bedroom, we have a stove that magically turns on with a switch, and a beautiful bentwood cradle that my husband used as a babe. It’s a good reminder that babies are a natural fruit from a good and godly marriage. I don’t take my fertility for granted; and I know I will mourn the day when it goes. I am thankful for my six children. I don’t pine for more, but they are welcome should they come. I have peace. And a cradle I love.

This was one of the splurges of the house: the biggest picture window we could get. It looks north, and I can see my dairy goats, hens, ducks and dogs meandering about in our little clearing in the woods. From my chair I can watch the driveway for my husband when he is coming home late. Sometimes I think about drapes. Then I think about cost, dust, cleaning, and cutting the view. I have no neighbors other than the coyotes, so I don’t worry much about privacy. Not that I walk in the skin!

I think every married couple needs a framed photo from their wedding in their bedroom. A good reminder of that time when your spouse sent you flying over the moon in love. The spark is still there. Remember it.

This was an old antique refrigerator given to us by my husband’s *other* grandmother, who I regret to this day not getting the opportunity to meet. I’d love to fill it full of quilts. Right now it’s full (full!) of old piano rolls for our player piano. Which thankfully is not in our bedroom!

On the floor I have a basket full of silk hydrangeas. I generally do not like *fake* flowers (or even dried dusty ones), but these I could not leave at the store! So I just fluff and dust them regularly and enjoy them.

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In case you’re wondering, our baseboards are large. They are 7 inches tall! And the paint is called “Indian Painting” (8283w). It’s pink enough for me, clay enough for my husband. I love how it looks with the northern lighting; it’s very relaxing.

We don’t keep a TV in our room. Actually, we don’t keep a TV anywhere in the house anymore, but even when we did, the TV was still banned from the bedroom. So was (and is) the treadmill. I don’t like the look of big electronics and machinery in our room. I want our room to be a sanctuary, not a storage room either. That doesn’t mean, however, that it is always clean and neat as a pin.

Don’t have money for a valentine? Maybe with a little time and attention, your bedroom can become the one big valentine that will last the whole year through. Hearing my husband settling in for the night with a satisfying sigh in a room that encourages relaxation is, to me, worth the amount of effort and time on my part as a small token of my love.

Ruby’s Therapy

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Isaiah 41:13 For I the LORD thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee.

We had our second appointment with the neurodevelopmentalist for Ruby. I still find the whole process approaching flood water status, but certainly we are not facing medical tsunamis, so I am just tenderly moving onto the next step, trusting the Lord for His help in all things (even if the tsunami shows up!)

The biggest challenge I have with this Can-Do program is the amount of things listed to do along with their frequencies and durations. It is certainly a mercy of the Lord that I do not carry such a list for the other children during the rest of my day or I should surely be put into despair! I cannot imagine waking to a list of every bit of minutia that I must accomplish in my day, including most things formed from habit and some from practice…and then at the end of it all trying to remember how many times I (fill in the blank) and for how many minutes. What mom could keep such a checklist?

So keeping up with the checklists and reports is a great challenge to me. I am trying. Mostly I am successful in doing them, but I ended up ripping up the last one and showed up to her appointment empty handed. Grace abounded.

As for the tasks themselves, they are not difficult. And truthfully, most of them are not things to be learned, but things which intuitively as mothers most of us do already. That in itself is encouraging and empowering. Plus, the people involved with the program have been wonderful and I certainly appreciate having objective measures of Ruby’s progress on a regular basis.

Here are some examples of the activities for Ruby’s next four months:

Listening with Mozart with headphones: This ought to be interesting, because I normally do not allow my children to wear headphones for the very reason it would be good for Ruby: it shuts everything (and everyone) else out. But we do all enjoy listening to classical music, especially in the background of everyday living.

Body works: We got a fun massager from here to use all over her body. Also we can use tactile gloves and give her lots of loving squeezes. She needs to swing and of course do the normal toddler things such as dancing around with me, bouncing, creeping and crawling. Her legs are very strong (yay!) but her arms are pretty weak (wah!) so I’ll be needing to *make* her try to use them more. Which will make her mad. My goal is to have her up completely on her hands and knees instead of commando-crawling by our next appointment in May. And for her to forgive me for making her do hard things in order to get there.

Language activities: these are mostly the normal everyday things that mommies typically do with their toddlers, such as pointing and naming objects, looking at pictures, and so forth. I’m using flash cards with Ruby, which certainly wasn’t a “normal” activity for my other toddlers, but Ruby loves looking at them, and my other children love doing them with her.

I’m so glad Ruby is home with her family. We can do everything that a therapist outside the home can do, and we are all being trained and supported in all the hows and whys of doing so. There is great joy in our household when she blows her own horn or turns the pages of a book or stacks blocks. Right now, no one else in no other building for no amount of money can give Ruby what is really going to help her succeed: her family’s total presence, love and support. And that part of raising Ruby, indeed, isn’t really so hard at all.

Blessings,

A Bridled Mouth is a Benefit

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Let us resolve–first to attain the grace of silence; second, to deem all fault-finding that does no good a sin, and to resolve, when we are happy ourselves, not to poison the atmosphere for our neighbors by calling on them to remark every painful and disagreeable feature of their daily life; third, to practice the grace and virtue of praise.
Harriet Beecher Stowe

Recently our family was hit with some pretty mean and over-the-top words. The outpouring of just plain filth was pretty amazing and the amusing (and very sad) thing was that owner of said words claims to be a follower of the Lord. They were poured out onto print, even!

Hmmm…
John 13:35 By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.

So, after the initial righteous indignation passed, my very wise husband said that we ought not to respond at all. After all, we were just as capable of shooting back. So, remembering how the Lord Himself was reviled, reviled not again; when he suffered, he threatened not; but committed himself to him that judgeth righteously (1 Peter 2:23), we decided to do likewise and just committed the situation into the Lord’s hands by prayer.

Proverbs 26:4 Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest thou also be like unto him.

Now I am reading in Joshua and found myself in chapter 8. I will tell you quite plainly that I plan to be a King James Bible Thumper until the day I die because over and over again God is right there to teach me no matter what my circumstances are through whatever passage I happen to be on. I carry no dictionary, no lexicon, no other study tools other than my concordance and it is enough.

So, in Joshua 8, I read how the city of Ai was taken. The men were drawn out of the city to follow part of Joshua’s army, and while they were away, the other half of the army was able to enter in unhindered and capture it.

Now I don’t know why this city was destroyed, and plenty of people would love to argue in circles about how the God of the Bible was an ogre. But I know God’s reasons for doing so were completely right, and just because I don’t know why (maybe they were eating their children for breakfast for all I know) doesn’t mean that it was wrong. That isn’t the point here.

What struck me is that the way the city was taken because (turning the situation around) I know the devil wants to take my family and my home and my marriage and my peace. I know the easiest way to give him a place to do so is to mentally leave my post and wrap myself up in somebody else’s sin and spin on their words and actions. Of course, then it is an easy road to forgo planning meals and instead sharpen my pen or mouth for battle.

The fool would not fall. But my home might.

After all, it wasn’t long before Joshua’s men decided to take matters into their own hands, too: Joshua 9:14 And the men took of their victuals, and asked not counsel at the mouth of the LORD.

Basing my decisions to obey the Lord on how circumstances LOOK instead of checking in with Him always leads to a consequence I never intended. So, if the Lord by His example tells me to keep my peace (Matt 26:63) and keep the law of kindness on my tongue (Pro 31:26), I can depend on Him to take care of all manners of evil about me.

You know, there is a time to speak, and a time to keep silence. Both depend on the Lord’s leading. I think, however, we are far more eager to find reason to open our mouth in defense than we are to keep it shut in humility.

James 1:26 If any man among you seem to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man’s religion is vain.

Psalms 39:1 I said, I will take heed to my ways, that I sin not with my tongue: I will keep my mouth with a bridle, while the wicked is before me.

Surrounded by those who constantly exhibit defects of character and conduct, if we yield to a complaining and impatient spirit, we shall mar our own peace without having the satisfaction of benefiting others.
Thomas Cogswell Upham

The Lord bless you.

Together is Better

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Last Saturday my very wonderful husband took all six children out for the day so that I could have a day to just think and plan and prepare and rest. I needed to redo our schedule and reassign chores and, basically, just make the world stop for a little bit so that I could see the big picture again.

It was hard to step over the laundry on the floor to give priority to mental work. But I knew if I didn’t focus, the only quiet time I’d get to think on things would be close to 10 o’clock at night. Like now.

The first thing I did was retweek my schedule. Oh, I am so thankful for that! Those little sticky paper notes marking my day have saved me from frustration for many, many years. We have never, ever, hit our schedule perfectly and usually end up using it as “routine”ish. But over the week, over time, we generally get it all done, even the under-the-sink-cleaning and the math lessons and the pulling weeds. I use Teri Maxwell’s Managers of Their Homes (that big scary book that took me years to buy because it looked so intense!). But, truly, line by line, it all makes sense, and I love the message board she runs with it; it is SO helpful.

It was also a blessing to relisten to Susan Bradrick’s Twenty-Four Hours is All You Get. I love what she said about “using your time wisely” being either an inspiration OR a conviction, and that how you use your time would flow from that (or not, as the case may be). I (personally, although I dislike saying “personally” but…bother…there it is) feel the weighty-ness of having such a very short time with my children before they are all off and grown. There is so much for them to learn! Oh, to make my time COUNT!

I also had to think about some discipline issues that were not going away. My older children, although not perfect, are pleasant and obedient. My younger children, however… All I could imagine was that I forgot how to raise toddlers! It felt like I had two complete sets of kids!

So I reacquainted myself with mentors that helped me along the first time, and one of those was Elizabeth from Raising Godly Tomatoes. It was so refreshing to revisit her website, and I bought one of her books (now that I had a little money to do so!).

“Tomato staking” was exactly what we needed! I didn’t need to get more firm or spank more or pile on the consequences. What I needed to do was the same thing I did when I only had two small children…keep them WITH ME.

If I’m in the kitchen, I have little shadows. If I’m changing baby’s diaper, I have little shadows. If I’m walking on my treadmill, I have little shadows sitting quietly on the couch. They are never outside the same room I am in, and because of that, I can easily praise good behavior. And, I can immediately correct bad behavior, including sour attitudes.

Mothers (and I am pointing at me, here, too!) cannot afford to be selfish. If our babies haven’t earned the trust and right to be away from us (by their obedient behavior) then I have to wonder, What are we thinking?! when we send them off “to play” while we get sucked into the computer or chip bag or whatnot?

Mothering is a FULL TIME JOB. Not correcting things on the spot means stucco-dried-on behavior problems later. It is worth my full attention now to have pleasant children (and adults!) later. And that also means that they need more “socialization” with ME, not with other children, which means I need to just let people say mean and stupid things regarding the matter.

I was so glad to remind myself of these things and to set my course aright again.

I also spent time considering chores. I don’t like the word “chores”. It sounds, well, choooorish. As in, what drudgery must I do today before I can get to what I REALLY want to do? In any case, I figure I have several options:

  1. Do everything myself. Ship the children off to government school or pop in a looping video, don the yellow gloves and start scrubbin’! This, I admit, sounds like the best idea ever! My house would be CLEAN. At least until the bus came back.
  2. Make the kids do it all. Too bad, so sad, get busy. While I make phone calls. Hmmm…
  3. Do it together. This I like least of all. But it is best.

How else will my children learn to cook or clean or change sheets or do laundry? Feed the dog, take out every trash can in the house or (oh-yes) change a baby’s diaper? I left home not knowing how to do anything like that (see choice number 1), and God-bless-him my husband ate a whole lot of Hamburger Helper and bagged salad when we were first married.

But doing it together? I’m still learning how to do that. I’ve been using the “divide and conquer” method, as in: “You sweep the floor and I’ll wipe the counters.” Doing it together means, “I’ll spray and you wipe.” It’s slower. Slower means not as efficient. But doing chores together not only ties in nicely with the whole discipline thing, it gives room for (again) prompt praise and prompt correction. I expect I’m going to find a bit of, “you were doing that HOW?” once I am there overSEEing their work.

Another post, another day on how I organize our chores.

I spent some time thinking of homeschooling on my own retreat day as well. In fact, that aspect went well into the night after the kids were home and in bed. Every time I do this, I have to re-ask myself why I’m homeschooling. And after I remember all of the very right and good reasons, I then have to re-ask myself if I’m doing a good job doing it. Ugh! What mother likes that question about any part of parenting?!

So back through the books I went, perusing websites and revisiting curriculum choices. I gave a critical eye to each of my children’s notebooks to assess how they were doing, and overall, I remain very, very pleased with their progress and with their work. There is always room for improvement (and believe me I’ll stay up more evenings trying to do that!), but overall I love learning alongside them and watching their little light bulbs pop above their sweet heads.

Of course there were extra things to think about, too. Such as outside activities (are we involved with too much? not enough?) and skills the children want to learn. Who could teach us sewing? How are we managing with our animal husbandry skills and garden plans? And, why are we doing this again?! Will the Lord bring us more children? What if we (gasp!) adopted a bunch of children? Or travelled to a foreign country? Or…or…or….

And then there was Ruby to consider. Ruby is our child with Down Syndrome and is now 19 months old. She got her very first illness last month and our poor sweetheart was just so miserable, what with a plethora of teeth popping in at the same time. We are currently involved with a mentoring relationship with a neurodevelopmentalist to learn and to do all of her therapies at home. Every parent and sibling in the house works with Ruby. But still, I needed to ask questions to my yahoo group and get encouragement from other mothers who understand what a special needs child involves. And then I got online and spent a bunch of Christmas money on toys and such for her. Because I could 🙂

I wish I could say that one day of Retreat conquered every bit of mommy-inadequacy and mommy-guilt. It didn’t. But it did give me room to remember why we’re doing everything we’re doing, and to fine tune the means by which it happens, and how to make it all work with eight people living in the house all in each other’s *space* the whole day and night. In case you didn’t see it yet, in working to foster a happy home, I rediscovered and refueled to the idea that we must do things together.

And I do think families together, most truly, is best.

Hands to the Plow, Eyes to the Savior

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There sure is a lot of junk going on in the news these days. There are people “out there” who want me to pay double or triple what I already pay for a pound of ground beef because of “global warming” of course, what with the passing gas all those moo-moo’s do. They also want our family to pay more for the energy we consume because it isn’t fair to third world countries that we are comfortable in our home, and besides that, we’re overpopulating the world with our footprints. In addition, we need to give our children their “right” to on-demand contraceptives (and of course a “recourse” for failures of such), and get in line for nanny-state-run so-called “health” care whether we want it or not. I’m sure pretty soon we’ll be expected to burn our Bibles too, what with all the hate-inciting-speech within its pages.

But you know what? All of this garbage is NOTHING NEW.

Ecclesiastes 1:9 The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.

I think we have experienced God’s grace and mercies for so long now (all my life, at least) that we beat our chests and demand all of our liberties to continue irregardless of our culture’s (and our own) flat out dismissal of Biblical knowledge, understanding, and wisdom. Somehow instead we’ve managed to find an extra 68 hours in our month to spend online, but the time for personally meeting with Jesus is a quaint desire that nothing but catastrophe would move us to.

So, I think we’re just, as a whole, going to have things our own way, which is always a disaster. But we’re too smart to repent, and too intelligent to grant God His due, much less acknowledge Him as He has revealed Himself.

So, while I’m not advocating sticking our heads in the sand (don’t skip voting!), I would like to share some thoughts about what our responses as Christian homemakers may look like.

First, realize that none of this took (or takes) God by surprise, He is still on the throne, and still raises up kings (and presidents) for His own work and for His own glory.

Second, accept that we are no more worthy to escape hardship and calamity than any of the other millions and millions of faithful women that have gone before us. Would you think it better to have lived under the reign of King Herod the butcher? Or during the Babylonian captivity? Or, even now, in a country where persecution is yours should you dare to own a Bible or to be pregnant with a second child or to teach your own children about Jesus, lover of their souls?

Third, it is good to be prepared. Learn how to preserve food and fill your pantries. Learn simple first aid, and know how to use medicines to care for your family. Read plenty of nonfiction, and try your hand at many things. But please do not fall into the hole of believing that your family’s well being is ALL UP TO YOU. It is not. There will be things out of your control, but know it is never outside of God’s.

Lastly, do study to be quiet. It is a command, for our own good.

1 Thessalonians 4:11 And that ye study to be quiet, and to do your own business, and to work with your own hands, as we commanded you…

One of the ways I do this is to do handwork and crafts. My hands stay busy, and it is a good time to pray or listen to encouraging music or a good sermon. One woman quietly rolling out a pie crust for her family’s meal is better for the world than another Henny Penny running amok.

These are hard and uncertain times, and many of us are rightfully burdened with the worries of it. However, as Christians, we have access to the Prince of Peace, and in staying near to Him we may find that even the folks “out there” cannot move us from the quietness we have within despite the cacophony without.

Proverbs 1:33 But whoso hearkeneth unto me shall dwell safely, and shall be quiet from fear of evil.

Shalom,

Map Work

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My children very much enjoy working with maps, and drawing them benefits them greatly in understanding history, terrain, culture and of course scale. It’s a wonderful way to combine art and mathematics, and careful, diligent work is rewarded with a beautiful product.

Here are some examples from my seven year old.

This one may not look like anything special, but it is a map of our area. Specifically, if you began at our home, all of the signs, turns, and topography (such as bumpy lines for a dirt road) make complete sense in getting the driver into town. I was pretty impressed!

Just like the one above, this one was made on her own accord. She had pulled out one of the cottage landscaping books from the library, and planned out her dream garden.

Lastly, this is an example from our Bible study of Genesis. This assignment came from a book that makes learning about Genesis even more interesting than it already is. I love that all sorts of reasoning and apologetic questions are throughout its pages:

.

In this assignment from Genesis, we not only mapped out where places were/are (and discussed possible migration routes), but we took the time with colored pencils to correctly color the topography.

If you are interested in teaching (or learning) how to hand draw maps, you might like checking out this book written in 1869. You can find a free pdf of it here.

Blessings,

Sharpening Iron Over Marriage

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There are women everywhere who are always picking at their husbands (and unfortunately one of them stares at me at times in the looking glass). I find it repulsive. From the media to the grocery store to the lawn at home. Nag nag nag, pick pick pick. Some wives are so well versed in it they don’t even realize they’re doing it. And sometimes it’s done just so creatively and softly that only the wife is aware that she did it again to get what she wanted!

And what I find to be a true-ism is this: as much as this behavior is atrocious, these women are flat out unhappy. They’re so worried about being control freaks that they can’t relax and just snuggle with their husbands without making sure he’s removed his shoes at the door first.

So my friend and I are helping one another to be better wives, through prayer and accountability. It’s pretty plain speech at times, but that’s what real friends do.

Proverbs 27:6 Faithful are the wounds of a friend; but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful.
Proverbs 27:17 Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.

I’ll give you a peek into our conversation, and you can glean from it whatever you need at this time, knowing that “No, it wasn’t about you”. And yet….could it be? Warning: the following may turn you green if you are still tied up in feminism…..

Does your husband know today of your full support? Does he know that you are his biggest cheerleader, that no one respects him more than you? That if the dishwasher broke you’d hang in there waiting for months until he could get it fixed..with a cheerful attitude (oh wait, that’s me over here 🙂

Are you organizing your time to have a good healthy meal for your family ready? Are you making the foods that he enjoys?

Does your husband know how excited you are to be going on the upcoming vacation with him and how much you appreciate all the time, effort, and money he is putting out to make it happen?

Are you training your children to have the home cleaned up before their daddy gets home? Their faces can be wiped and your hair brushed, too.

We can do all things through Christ. Yes, we have the time, and yes, we know what we need to do. Discipline your mind and your actions to follow Jesus and your emotions WILL follow suit and grow you in JOY. Don’t let anyone give you reason to consider you the “poor wife” and don’t keep score. Remember how much God has forgiven you and forgive your husband 7 times 70 times.

These are some things to consider and ponder and be sober about. Not that what we *do* or *don’t do* gives excuse for our husband’s behavior, but that we are faithful to what God has called us to. We can’t help change or actually change our husbands, but God does work through our obedience to Him, especially when it all seems pointless.

I know we know this one (emphasis mine):

1 Peter 3:1-4 Likewise, ye wives, be in subjection to your own husbands; that, if any obey not the word, they also may without the word be won by the conversation of the wives; While they behold your chaste conversation coupled with fear. Whose adorning let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel; But let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price.

Our conversation needs to be
(1) chaste:
Free from obscenity, In language, pure; genuine; uncorrupt; free from barbarous words and phrases, and from quaint, affected, extravagant expressions.

and

(2) coupled with fear:
Reverence; respect; due regard.

If we can’t talk with our husbands with those two things in mind, then God’s promise is about null and void because of that “IF”. And yes, eyebrows *talk*.

We ought to be pleading with God for that meek and quiet spirit, too. It is the meek that will inherit the earth, and a spirit of “when is it my turn” will just lead to further discouragement and fertilizer for the roots of bitterness. It is not easy; it is a SACRIFICE and that is why it costs a “price”. It is a sacrifice unto the Lord when we hold our tongue, respect our husbands, give him room to fail, and just acknowledge that yes, failed expectations ARE a loss for us.

It is only with GOD that the impossible is possible, to continue to serve cheerfully, to love selflessly and to hope continually. You are NOT a failure, my friend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! God has already set your work before you AND gone ahead of you. HE is GOD and HE will fill you up. HE will speak to you and listen to you and HE will work through you and in you through all of this. He is working on YOU, and you WANT what He’s forming (though you may think you don’t right now ha).

It’s a new day, friends. As we speak with our husbands, will we put away what does not edify (like nagging) and put on what does (like lovingkindness?)

Dust off the wedding pictures and remember why you married him. And then give him reason to thank God he married you. It is a good and proper challenge for me, as well, and it is worth it.

Mark 14:8 She hath done what she could…

Barn Building

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PhotobucketWe’re currently building a small barn for our dairy goats. My husband has never built a barn before, but is doing very well using his knowledge of construction to make it happen. And me? I’ve never milked a goat in my life and although I’m enjoying the animals themselves (they’re so sweet!), my confidence isn’t exactly overwhelming.

So, one of my two kinders is due to kid (look at me, I’m using the lingo!) in about a week. I’m hoping for an easy, natural, “hey, baby goats just popped out!” kind of event. In the meantime, I’m gathering supplies, reading as much as I can, and trying to sift through all of the earnest and conflicting advice goat-people are sharing with me.

Sort of reminds me of having my first baby. I read all of the help books and sat, mostly politely, on the receiving end of lots of advice (sometimes veiled in stories of the worst possible outcomes that happened to “someone” that the advisor knew who did not follow the prescripted course of mothering). What I quickly found out was that in the day to day routines and minute by minute decisions it was just me figuring out how to be the Mommy. Thank God (and I do!) for His presence and help!

I learned most of what I now know through just being a mother, and I am still learning. I am learning to mother six children by having six children to mother. I am learning to keep a house by staying home to do it. I am learning to homeschool by assigning mathematics. I am learning to make really great pie crusts by baking lots of pies. Learning by doing. It’s not as safe as having every duck in a row before starting (and why do we think it would be easier if they were?), but the fruit is there. And it is mostly sweet.

So maybe this dairy goat adventure will work out fine. In the meantime, I need to go out and help paint the trim to the barn. Maybe if the surroundings are pretty, figuring out how to milk will be icing on the cake, and I too will be able to call myself a goat-person with advice of her own to give when the time is right. Like mothering, there is much to learn by simply jumping in.

In Her Own Time

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Back in early spring I got some green bean starts from a neighbor, already vigorously growing in their peat pots. I remember being impressed by the head start, but wary of whether or not they would actually produce. Well, so far, I’ve gotten a handful of green beans and they are looking like they’re already spent. And this is how the plants look:

Beans started too earlyNot so well, as you can see. Bug eaten, and not very pretty either.

Now, on the other side of the rocky aisle, about two feet away, are the beans I planted from seed at the proper time. At this point I have a crazy amount of beans ripening on the plants. Plus they are all healthy and beautiful! I’m amazed at the difference!

Beans planted at the right time

_ I’ve been thinking of Ruby with this object lesson. She has down syndrome and is now 13 months old. The list of activities she cannot do is long, especially when I compare her to the other three babies of the same age that belong to friends of mine. But today, she creeped! She wiggled and squirmed and propelled herself forward to get the toy she wanted. This was a great milestone! She may not be sitting up yet, but I’ve learned that cross-crawling is more important, so I was thrilled to celebrate!

It just makes me wonder how much we push our children to learn things or to know things before they are ready for it. At the swimming pool last week I witnessed an angry and exasperated mother whose child would not enter into the water (and she had “wasted two months on this already”.) She belittled her child and walked off in a huff. I remember thinking that the wee child was being forced into a peat pot instead of growing roots in her own time. She just didn’t seem ready.

And I also think of how I push myself to learn *everything* all at once. I feel, and rightly so, obligated to know how to raise our children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, what books and curriculum to use for homeschooling, how to properly prepare meals and care for the health of our family, all (and I mean ALL) about down syndrome, etc, etc, ETC. It can be overwhelming because I want to know these things now! But I, too, need time to grow, time to learn, time to recover from the mistakes I make. I can’t just barrel through. I need patience and persistence and sometimes, just simple plodding forward.

Ruby will do things in her own time. And she has been a good teacher to me in this, that my other children will do the same. And so, by God’s grace, will I.

Ruby at 13 months

Ecclesiastes 3:11 He hath made everything beautiful in his time.

P.S. If you’d like a really great book on this topic to share with your own blessings, check out Ruby in Her Own Time (and isn’t that an appropriate title?)

The Down Side of Multi-Tasking

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Mind, it is our best work that He wants, not the dregs of our exhaustion. I think He must prefer quality to quantity. George MacDonald

As much as my heart wants to “be just like Jesus” in His restful spirit, there was today a part of me that, as I thought of this, said something akin to, “well, I have to mother small children all day” and just as the thought escaped my foolish heart I was immediately convicted and covered my filthy mouth! The scripture is replete with Jesus being practically chased down by multitudes of people wherever He went, all seeking something or another from Him at all times and not always with the purest motives. Time and again, He was “moved with compassion” towards them, ministering to them, healing them, teaching them. Me? I find myself moved more with “exhaustion” and just trying to get them all (“all” whopping six of them, certainly not a multitude!) under their own evening covers so that I can have some quiet (*ahem* time to do what I want to do). This momma, as another writer so aptly put it, turns into a pumpkin after nine o’clock and compassion is far removed from another story, a drink of water, another potty time and questions regarding what is for breakfast the following morning.

Well, I’m a bit tired of pumpkin and once again I questioned, “what am I REALLY supposed to be doing all day, Lord?” So out came my college-ruled notebook paper and my Bible. Lists. Hmmm, merchant ships, gathering food…..check……. Scheduling. Planning. Layers of multitasking extraordinaire. And yet, unsatisfying. I felt tired just looking at it all. If I can’t be just like Jesus, can’t I at least be more like Mary? Somehow I don’t think the woman kept lists.

The one needful thing, however, alas! Time with God, alone. I mean, really alone. Jesus would meet with His Father alone to pray and talk, especially after giving out all that compassion. Me? I pray while I’m nursing (with baby), while I’m driving (in traffic), while I’m gardening (weeding), while….

It just makes me wonder. I wonder if I would be so tired at the end of the day if I were not so *good* at multitasking. If I didn’t have to do handwork while watching a movie. If I didn’t have to return phone calls while cooking. If I didn’t have to read a book while nursing. Certainly I get much *done* but at what cost?

I’m not sure if I’m even capable of wholeheartedly concentrating on one thing at a time. I’m not even certain that slowing down and doing less would relieve me of weariness at the end of the day. But I think I’d like to begin with Deuteronomy 6:5 And thou shalt love the LORD thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might. I think, perhaps, if the Lord is gracious to renew my strength for another day, I may leave the lists behind closed closet doors and begin with offering my Lord the gift, nay the very least of what I may give: my complete attention.

Because I spent the strength Thou gavest me
In struggle which Thou never didst ordain,
And have but dregs of life to offer Thee-
O Lord, I do repent.

Sarah Williams