Anudder Announcement (Lame. I know.)
I had another post planned for tonight, as well as some pictures – but weather induced migraines have set in. I can scarcely see straight.
I’ll be away from this here blog for a few days. We’re headed south to celebrate my father’s 82nd birthday. He’s still a quite spry fellow – both mentally and physically. My siblings, who are usually scattered geographically, will be there too. So, we’ll be “roughing it” in a little log cabin and doing plenty of fishing on the side.
We just returned from Minnesota about 3 weeks ago – THAT was over 36 hours of driving. Not fun. Every time the baby fell asleep, the toddler who NEVER sleeps would yell “BABY SLEEPING!” and then, the baby was NOT sleeping.
Take care of yourselves (!) and I will see you in a few days. 
Rainy days and pear trees
Remember the early days, how good it felt to wrap your arms around your beloved and hold them so tightly – knowing that you belonged to them and they to you, for good and for keeps? Remember how nice it felt as a newlywed, knowing you would never have to say goodnight and you go to your home while he drove away to his own?
Perhaps it is the cool weather in the air that makes me romantically nostalgic – my sweetheart and I met our first few weeks in college, at the tender ages of 17 and 18. The very, very first night that he walked me back to my dorm I knew that this was the man for me. I coupled my name with his in my girlish mind, and voila’! the man was toast. He was mine. God was simply good. He took a young girl with a heavy, problematic childhood and gave her the certainty of steadfast love in human form.
Rainy fall evenings and pear trees laden with fruit always make me thankful for the path my life has taken. I held his hand first. God can and does work on our behalf, often even before we are smart enough to know what to ask for… even without a model for courtship or marriage counseling.
Today, while delivering meals, the old Steven Curtis Chapman song was playing on the radio. “I will be here – when the mirror tells us we’re older, you can cry on my shoulder, I will listen, and I will be here, to watch you grow in beauty, to tell you all the things you are to me, I will be here…” I had to turn my head and stifle a sob…because when we listened to the song in college, those days of looking in the mirror and feeling older seemed so far away. Then I smiled, because the words are true. A good man will love you and think you are still beautiful. In fact, he will think you are growing more beautiful with time. I told my husband recently that I thought he was more handsome now than when he was a college kid. I’m not sure he believed me…but it is true. I love those tired eyes with the little crinkles at the sides and the stubble that says, “I’m exhausted from being up in the night with the toddler while you were up with the baby and I don’t have time to shave - but here’s your coffee, honey.”
My little girl was sitting in the second van seat with the baby today, and as I glanced her way I realized that our love story didn’t stop just with us. It grew with one, then two and now all the way to seven young ones. Our family is our love story. It is nine people, holding, clinging, watching, listening, growing – We watch them, and as they grow and mature, so does our collective love. It includes them. It engulfs them. It will never leave them, even when they begin their own love stories and build their own families.
Oh, that they will be so blessed!
Psalm 68:6a “God sets the lonely in families…”
Announcements…what a horrible way to die…
It’s not too late to leave me a note telling me about yourself. Just scroll down….and post away.
Hubby and I have been busy today running all over town (Monday is his day off) picking up birth certificates and changing voter registration, etc. It was lovely, because we only took 4 (!) children with us. My eldest at 14 is finally old enough to babysit.
Tonight we worked together to make meals to take to three families in our church…two new babies and one mama home from the hospital. On the menu – Sour cream meatballs, mashed potatoes, veggie, home made bread and brownies. Sound good? That man ‘o mine makes a mean meatball!
Frugality taken too far
I’m a frugality queen. I can tell you ninety nine ways to cook rice and beans so your kids will eat them. I can teach you how to make your own yogurt and laundry detergent…(but not ALL in the same dish, please.) My mother taught me well…she was one to wash her paper coffee filters.
My husband and I are quite the frugal team, in fact. We shop half price days at the thrift stores, can our own food, grind our own flour, remodel old homes to sell at a profit. The man never buys himself new clothing – I finally bought him some brand spankin’ new dress shoes because I was afraid the congregation might take up a special offering. We just can’t have that.
As frugal as we are, we did meet someone more frugal than ourselves once. One church that we were at gave us a “food shower.” Within the grocery bags were some half eaten boxes of cheese crackers. I can’t top that. After all, nothing says “welcome” like partially devoured food.
So, while I like to be frugal, there are times -
-and it chokes me to say this -
when frugality can go too far.
I say this becuuuuuz….
I was shopping at our small town grocery store. There was a bin – a innocent looking bin – of hair products. Colors, dyes, special treatments, shampoos, conditioners, blah blah blah. I can’t, simply can’t, resist a bargain, you know – so I backed up to peruse the items.
The prices were incredible. A mere $2.00 for each item. I threw some shampoo in the cart, chucked in the conditioner – and hesitated over a “do it yourself” perm. “I need a perm…I’ve done these before….it’s not that hard….somebody must use these things, they manufacture them, don’t they?” In went the perm.
I stayed up very late one night last week, giving myself a “permanent.” They really should have the warning “don’t try this at home.” My hair had finally gotten long, to a stage I really was happy with it at. It was in fairly good shape, too, something I don’t take for granted. Good hair doesn’t run in my family.
The result was horrible! My hair was absolutely and totally fried. I mean, it is bad. I have tried hot oil treatments and conditioners. All to no avail. My hair is one big mess of frizz.
I was horrified, of course, and yet…I think I’ve grown as a person. There was a time I would not have emerged from the bathroom for a week. I would have cried for months. Now, while I feel bad, I am able to realize that my worth comes from who I am in Christ Jesus, not from my hair. My husband still loves me, the kids still love me, the dog still worships at my feet. It just means I need to get a new hairstyle and work on the inner woman.
After surveying the damage, my sweet husband touched my arm, looked into my eyes, and said, “Honey, I appreciate you trying to be frugal…but…don’t do it this way.“ I think I wept a little, sniffled, agreed, and set off to wash some coffee filters.
2 Corinthians 4:16
Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.
Getting to Know You
Could I get to know you a little bit? Some of you I am familiar with from days past at Choosing Home, some of you I know from your own blogs…but some of you I don’t know too well!
Please share a little big about yourself and your families in the comment box. (Obviously, for protection issues…don’t tell me your social security number and street address. ) This is a great way to highlight YOUR blog, if you desire…or just to share a little bit with others who are here.
You are welcome here- even if you know that we are vastly different. There is no pressure to be cut from one mold – I truly don’t believe that is how God designed us. I was looking at some aquarium fish the other day, stunned at the WIDE variety included in God’s marvelous creation…and thought how He does this over and over throughout the plant and animal kingdom. Why would He work any different in His most marvelous creation of humanity?
So, entertain me today while I descend to the basement to pull out winter clothing for my tribe (and perhaps even find that lost hamster!), and be your beautiful, God created self…tell me about YOU!
I am so excited about these!
You will see two new e-books on my sidebar.
The first is a holiday planner written by a friend I have known since college, Sheri Graham. (That is getting to be a loooong time ago, now.) Sheri sent me a copy of this planner, and I was really impressed. She left nothing out. NOTHING. Well, okay, she won’t gift wrap your presents for you, but she DID mention baking cookies for your pastor’s family on page 69. (Good girl, Sheri!)
I’m not a planner, people. But this makes me want to be.
There’s a part of me that wants to cancel anything about Christmas beyond a extremely quiet celebration at home…but that never seems to happen. After looking thru Sheri’s Holiday Planner, I really think this would help me make things more simple. You write it all down…see where you are overloaded…and do what you are able. She covers Thanksgiving thru New Year’s, with stationery, recipes, and the focus right where it should be – on Jesus. Sheri is a homeschooling mama of four, with her youngest little girl a tender two months of age.
You will also notice Ann Voskamp’s latest e-book in the sidebar. Ann sent me this just last night, too. It is gorgeous! It includes devotionals and ornaments that correspond with The Jesse Tree. Ann’s devotionals overflow from a heart that is in love with Jesus – you will feel like you are with her as she writes.
You can also get a soft-cover copy of The Glorious Coming at HERE.
Sheri is offering both books for a very low price. I recently tried my first e-book and loved it. It was very, very easy. Enjoy! Just click on the book graphics on the sidebar to check them out.
A special thanks to my sweet son Jake…the bestest 14 year old boy in the www. (Whole Wide World.) He sacrifices personal time to help his non-geek mother with her blog.
Are Large Families and Full Time Ministry Incompatible?
Several days ago Molly posted regarding the Quiverfull concept and what it means to her husband and herself. That generated a great discussion, which I imagine many of us are still thinking about. I know that I am.
I think to begin with, I’ll try to quickly sum up our family’s thoughts on children:
To us, it is much more than a woman popping out baby after baby after baby, year after tedious year. It is more than a woman being physically able or unable to do this. It is about God desiring to breathe life into a specific human individual, one that he has planned and purposed since time immemorial. It is not a burden to me, a law to be fulfilled at risk or fear of “sinning,” but a privilege.
I fully respect the individual health issues of many, many women. So many of you have testified to the difficulties that you or your children have, and I am so sorry for the pain you have carried. I believe that God himself feels your pain and helps you to carry it, and does not condemn you under the burden of “sin.”
I fully respect individual freedom, God allowed. I am willing to say that God has different paths for different people; but that His overarching view of life and of children is that they are “good,” and desireable, and that the Church in general in America has forgotten this.
Frankly, I think it is only in this forum where so many of us can gather together that this is even an issue. Most people in real life would laugh to even discuss whether birth control or surgical sterility is an issue! In my entire life, in real time, I have only known one other Christian family who believed this was an issue to pray about, to seek God about. Most of them did not hesitate to ask for prayer regarding a new home or which car to buy or which job to take, but never regarding children. And yes, we women DO talk about such things, so they have told me how they feel. (Note: If you as a reader feel judged by me, please, please don’t. I don’t know you personally, haven’t talked with you, and feel no need to judge you. I’m only talking about people that I know in depth.)
Having spent my entire life in “ministry” roles (preacher’s kid, preacher’s wife, missionary siblings) I can give firsthand account that preachers and missionaries are encouraged to limit their families, for the sake of being able to “minister” more. Most missionary kids that I grew up with were sent away to boarding school for seven months of the year, so that their parents could do their job. (memo: many of them have spent decades of their adult lives trying to deal with their feelings of abandonment and resentment, as well.) Sherrin brought up this topic in the comments, and I want to quote her here.
God never presents a dichotomy between ministry and child bearing, and neither should we. In most of history, the church has sacrificially cared for orphans and the unwanted whilst having very large families. Surely, if birth control was a great tool for effective ministry God would have provided reliable means of it much earlier than the twentieth century. Desiring God argued that if you have fewer children you may be able to give more to missions. This seems incredibly short sighted, since if you raise many godly children they will give heaps more to missions than you ever could have! (Sherrin was talking about Desiring God by John Piper. You can read the article in question here.)
Wow, Sherrin. What a great point! I’ve got to admit, I struggled with this BEFORE my husband entered the pastorate. At one Bible study I attended, the topic was, “How can I minister to others if I home school,” (with the implication that one CAN’T) and another question often asked was, “How can I minister to others if I continue to have children?” Again, it was assumed that the two were mutually incompatible.
There ARE times when it is tough, honestly, such as when the little ones are sick and I can’t attend for weeks at a time. Many times I am sure I’m not the pastor’s wife that many hope for, and yet, I know that God gave me these specific children and I must be faithful to THIS calling for THIS time in life. I believe he’ll have a different role for me in future days.
My “eldest” children are old enough now for me to begin to see the fruits of actually being a large family in ministry context. (And you know, everyone is a minister in the body of Christ. I’m not talking about something exclusive here!) This is the multiplication of ourselves that Sherrin was talking about! By faithfully bearing, raising and training my children, they are able to do so much more than I can do alone.
Here are some of the ways my older children serve our local body. They run Power Point and are training to run sound for services. They attend first service (so they aren’t missing church) then serve as teacher’s helpers in the younger classes during our second service. They play piano specials and sing for services. They help set up and clean up for the Senior Citizen’s lunches. They work in the nurseries. They visit people in the nursing home, and share their talents there. They greet and mingle. They are friends with all ages throughout our church.
Whenever I become discouraged with my lack of “time” to do more or serve more, I am encouraged by 3 extra sets of very willing and capable hands. In future years, I know that there will be even MORE extra hands ready to serve. My husband wishes all volunteers were as easy to come by, and had such willing hearts. It *is* hard when they are little, but WOW!, the rewards come later, if you hang in there! Don’t let the thought that big families and ministry are incompatible scare you off!
Extrication
We have just moved. As in – two days ago.
We left our home of five years, and moved seven miles down the road into the country.
Although I had been packing for months, it seemed, when it came right down to it, I simply wasn’t ready for the big moment. In all fairness, the moving date had been stepped up by a week. In secondary fairness, I must report that it was a heinously busy week for Jeff. He was unable to take more than one afternoon off. Men from church came to help us move on a Saturday, from the hours of nine to one.
A friend had our children for the a.m. – I stayed back to help direct traffic and clean up after everything. The big guys, Jake and Nick, were on a canoe trip with the church youth group.
At one, Jeff had to stop with the process, for he had a wedding to officiate at. So, he jumped in the shower, cleaned up, threw on a suit and tie, and raced to the church. In retrospect, I don’t really even know how we made it. What a painful process!
Saturday evening, we slept on mattresses. I had done my best to keep items out for church the next day, but even so, I couldn’t find toothpaste. I brushed my teeth with bubblegum toothpaste, and didn’t even care. I couldn’t find a slip to save my soul, so stood around for awhile wondering who I could call to borrow one from. No one close enough was the same size as me – so I determined I would be just fine without one.
Jake and Nick came home with bags of filthy, river saturated clothing – so the washer and dryer (the one thing we were leaving) ran constantly through those days.
Sunday afternoon, we moved our mattresses and the rest of our items out to the new place. We had just a few hours, then turned around and went back to church.
Nick and Emily were baptized in the evening service. Before they were baptized, they had to give a testimony. They were nervous, Emily especially, but I was very proud of her. I felt she spoke from her heart. Emily had the distinction of being the first person to be baptized in the new baptismal tank at church.
Sunday evening, after coming to the rental and getting the little children to bed, I went back into town to clean. I borrowed a radio from our associate pastor and wife, grabbed a cappuchino, and got to work. I continued to do laundry, and began cleaning in the basement. I vacuumed edges, sucking up years of legos, paperclips and push pins. I scrubbed mold that grew in the boy’s bathroom and beneath the freezer. I did my last load of laundry in that house.
I moved to the upstairs, continuing the process of extricating ourselves from a home. I forgot how difficult this is. I began to get quite emotional. I knew I would never hear “that” specific sound of stepping on a certain board, never peek my head in the door to check on girls in that particular room again. I continued my stewardship of my home, down to the last evening, caring for it, washing away it’s grime, flooding my soul with memories made there. Walking past the little boy’s room brought the most tears. I brought three tiny souls home to live in this house. Woke countless nights, soothed countless tears, cleaned up innumerable splashes of vomit when Josiah was so ill. I don’t want to go back…but the memories are there, they are precious to me, even the difficult ones.
I cried so much, I worshipped in submission, as I turned our years over to the Father. I turned over years past, I turned over our future. So much is unknown there, too. I trust Him. I have no idea where He will lead – and it is with some trepidation, but I know that I trust Him.
I finished up the upstairs, ripping off part of my middle right fingernail in the process. I was washing the floor, quite vigorously, in the upstairs bathroom. I was right under the cupboards, when I ran my finger full force into a nail that I had not seen. Ouch!
I said goodbye to each level, tucking memories to bed as I went.
I finished the main level, bidding it all farewell, walked out the door into the cool night and loaded van, and drove home. I could not sleep.
Cappuchino and memories will do that to you.
Thank you Father, for going before me and behind me. I can completely rest in you.
