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.
Build vs. Fix?
I grew up in a time, home and place where ministry was continually placed before family.
Inside the home, relationships were sour, angry, ignored.
I was surrounded with missionary families, deacons, bishops and college professors. There were exceptions of course, as there always are – but by and large the message was clear. “I’m doing what God asked by serving Him first. There isn’t time to ‘do it all,’ so He’ll have to take care of the kids.”
I don’t know statistics. I don’t even know where to find them. But anecdotal evidence tells me that throughout at least the last fifty years this has been a problem – not only in ministry families but with church attendees as well. It is possibly one of the reasons why kids who have been raised in the church don’t stay with the church. Perhaps it isn’t that they don’t see God at the gathering called “Church” but that they don’t see Him at home.
When my husband and I felt God calling us back into the pastorate,we already had four children. He had served as a youth pastor and as a associate pastor in previous years. This call to the senior pastorate was as clear as God’s thumb in our back, compelling us to come. We could have said “no,” but we knew we would have been miserable and would have missed immeasurable growth and blessing by refusing to come to our current church.
One of our biggest struggles was “How to do it all?” How to homeschool, how to give adequate time to our growing family, how to balance that with the absolutely life draining work of pastoring. To be honest with you, it is still a constant struggle; but one in which we aren’t willing to short change either side of our responsibilities.
It came down to this. Is it easier to build a child, or fix a man? To which are we as parents and Christians called?
I believe it is one of the main differentiations between evangelicals and those who are Reformed. It seems to me that those of the Reformed faith do a much better job of focusing on the family building, while evangelicals focus on…evangelism. (I say this even though we are not Reformed.)
I can tell you from the top down, from every mission or pastoral organization we have ever been a part of, the message that is sent is…Ministry First, family second. Sometimes there is a little note at the bottom of the letter or page that says, “Don’t forget to take time for yourself, and and give your family a little time, too.” But it is always an afterthought. I have yet to see, in 37 years, a letter to a pastor that tells him to pour himself into his family – the wife and kids, and that ministry must flow from that. One would think with the abysmal moral failure rate and stunning burn out rate among pastors, the organizations would rethink those statements…
For my husband and I, we say the answer must be “Both.” We cannot deny the Great Commission; but neither can we deny our responsibility to pour our lives into our children. This doesn’t come without sacrifice – it means very little free time. It also means that wherever we can work together as a family, we do. The kids go with Dad whenever possible. (Maybe not all at once, but a few at a time.) My husband is certain to help me at church functions. A child is usually dangling from his arm, or his leg. He helps me get plates, and carries things. He brings the drinks, the coffee. He allows me to spend time with women who need me. The bigger ones help in so many ways, from set up to sound to childcare.
We see how much time and effort it takes to “fix the man.” Broken people take much investment. Are they worth it? Without a doubt.
But neither should we throw away the child already in the home to fix the broken man outside our door. We only have the child for a short time, we must pour our lives into them while they are with us.
We feel called to both, whether God continues to call us to the life of a pastor’s family or not. The responsibility to those around us is not unique to those in full time ministry – it belongs to every Christian. So does the responsibility to children within our home.
After a re-read, I need to edit this to say that I believe there are full-time ministry workers everywhere you are doing a wonderful job of balancing family and ministry. It has meant they have to get a little creative…as I think we all must! I am saying that ministry organizations as a whole need to re-think their message to pastors/missionaries; and that all Christian parents need carefully balance priorities.
The Perspective of Grief
(Warning: This post is highly emotional in content. If you are pregnant, or near the birth of your baby, or already carry heavy grief, it may be best for you to not read any further. I’m sorry that all of my posts lately seemingly deal with some of the “harder” aspects of life…I’m not really a gloomy “Eeyore” personality, but sometimes our lives are “just that way,” and to pretend otherwise would be wrong. Within every difficulty, there is a lesson to be learned, and a closer relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ to be gained.)
Forget the sticky floor. Ignore the crumbs. Oh, I know that a orderly home is a good reflection of an orderly God…and many of us strive for that – but don’t forget to take the time in the midst of all of the cleaning and schedules and schooling to hold your little one. Pull them in close, smile into their eyes, fill their hearts with love and acceptance. Rejoice that you have been given this blessed gift of parenthood.
Today my husband preached the most difficult sermon of his life – the funeral sermon for a precious six month old little boy named John. John was born in May with a diagnosis of hydrocephalus. All throughout his mother’s pregnancy, we had prayed and waited for his arrival. Ultrasound had shown a problem, but the extent was unknown until his birth.
Soon after John’s birth, a shunt was installed to allow fluid to drain from his brain. His parents were overjoyed to learn that John would be mostly well, that his disability should be mild. He came home to join two older brothers, Jake, age 3 and Joey, age 2, and an entire host of family and friends who loved him.
And love him, we all did. I’ve never known a sweeter baby. As he grew, we all enjoyed him. In the Church nursery, we marveled at his sweet disposition and easy smile. Everything seemed to be progressing well. Until Monday of this week.
On Monday, John fell ill, and was rushed to a Children’s Hospital for emergency surgery. His shunt had dislodged, and the pressure on his brain was immense. John left this earthly life on Wednesday, leaving his grieving family to await the day they will again see him face to face.
What grief, what sorrow, what heaviness surrounds us all. To watch two young parents grieve so mightily is not an easy thing. To observe as a mama wraps the blanket around her baby and tucks him in for the last time, to know the hole in her heart will never completely heal…reminds us all to make the most of the time that we DO have.
With the perspective of grief, my fussy toddler doesn’t seem quite so fussy. I rejoice in his toothy grin and exuberance, even as he makes messes for me to clean up. My eleven year old stretching toward independence doesn’t seem quite so annoying. I’m able to catch a glimpse of the man he will become. The smushed bananas, the fingerprints on the wall, the piles of shoes and laundry really don’t even come close in importance to the little people growing up in your home. To be able to still touch our children, to hold them, to love them, to simply watch them grow up is a gift, a blessing not to be taken for granted.
Oh Lord, please be especially near to those who have lost children. Please hold them close and comfort them, remind them of your precious promises of the PLACE you are preparing for those of us who love you. For those of us who have never known this grief, please help us to reach out to those who have. Help us to be able to carry the load for them when they do not have the strength. Remind us of our blessings, not our burdens.
