This I know.

I know one thing about mothering. One thing beyond a shadow of a doubt. It is this:

My Words Have Power.

The words I speak to my children create reality for them. I can tear down or build up with my words. That's my job. Everyday I must selectively demolish and build. Demolish the bad-- harmful habits, hurtful words, disrespectful patterns of speech and behavior. Build the good-- diligence, bravery, perseverance, kindness in speech and actions, faithfulness in the little things and self-control. I build these things largely by talking about them, teaching them, praising their first timid appearances in my children's characters.

So I know this. The problem is, sometimes the demolition seems to take up all my energy, all my time and emotional resources. Sometimes the bad and ugly seem to rise far, far above my puny little wrecking balls and loom over my head with promises of visiting my children in juvie one day soon... the little delinquents.

Today I woke up remembering that demolition is only half of my job. If I tear down and neglect to build in it's place, then I create a vacuum, and we all know how nature feels about that. If I spend all my time disciplining, training, giving out consequences and negatively reinforcing, and then collapse in exhaustion on the couch, my household momentarily bullied into a semblance of peace, then I've missed it. Because while I rest and recuperate, slowly at first and building to a tempest, comes in all manner of  horrible things pouring into the vacuum created by my unfinished work.

Today I woke up determined to do some Rebuilding. I had to slow down first. As always. It always starts there. Giving up my right to Accomplish Many Things. So we started slooooow. We did our chores. We went for a looooong slooooow walk.

We ate lunch.

We read books.

We drew pictures.

That's it. That's all I did today. At least, on the surface. But down deep in Judah's heart I was building all day. Laying the foundation of the man he's going to become one day-- by God's Grace. I praised his bike-riding. His strength. His endurance (he biked nearly four miles while I ran with Jamie in the stroller). I told him about scientists and their keen powers of observation when he noticed a funny kind of grass growing beside the path. "Hooray! I'm going to be a scientist one day!!"

And all the rest of the ride he noticed. Everything. I mean it. Ev. Erything. I was interested in him all day. I taught him that he is important to me, that I care about what he has to say, that I enjoy talking to him and listening. (I'm writing this post in 45 sec bursts, in between helping him with his snapping turtle play-do sculpture).

I know my work is not done because we had one good day. I know there will be plenty to knock down and tear out tomorrow, but I've been encouraged in my determination to Speak Truth into my children's lives. Partly because because I can see it working....




"Mom, sin is really tough to fight. When we try to fight it, we lose... but if we relax... if we relax down in... God can get up and fight it away for us. It's like a big wall in front and we relax down behind and God can *swooosh* fight off Satan for us.You know how in church? In Church we say dat when we sing and pray... Satan TREMBLES? You know dat? It's jist like dat."

The Liturgy of Laundry

One of the hardest things about being a mother is the sheer monotony of the vocation. I've blogged about this before, but it bears repeating. The work that we do every day is undone almost immediately. The larger spiritual goals to which we attain are very long term and it may be decades before we see our ideals for our children come to full fruition. I far too often find myself replacing my daily responsibilities for home and hearth with lesser, more easily attainable and more apparently "productive" tasks. Even "good" things, when elevated above the Best become little more than idols. Fellowship with other moms is a good and godly desire, but leaving dirty dishes in the sink to pack my children, in their unwashed clothes, off to a playdate is probably less often a Best thing than I would like to imagine, however refreshed it might make me feel in the short term. Staying up too late reading inspirational blog posts?... ditto.

I have been helped recently by a book (it is so often a book of one sort or another, isn't it?) by Kathleen Norris, "Acedia and Me". While written from the perspective of a childless widow, and with a much deeper exploration of the topic and far more inspired applications, I have found in it a nugget that I find quite profound for the circumstances in which I find myself-- homemaker, mother-of-three, impatient servant. That is, to seek to become aware of  a Sacramental quality in my daily work. A liturgical parallel, if you will. The daily-ness, the repetition, the lack of immediate and visible result-- all those things can be said of many of the rythms and repetitions of the church's worship.

And in the same sense, my daily routines, if attended to with a reverential and sacrificial heart (in the sense that I offer them to the Lord as a sacrifice and an act of worship) becomes my Liturgy of the Hours, in a very real sense. And with this emphasis I can rightly order my goals; shifting from an expectation of Results, Product and Effect in my environment (my children are clean and well-mannered at all times, my house is spotless, my laundry stays cleaned and folded in the drawers, the weeds never regenerate, etc) to a desire to see change in myself-- in my attitudes, affections, endurance and perseverance, as well as a deepening relationship with Christ. This shift in perspective, in expectations, will I think cause me to be less impatient towards, less critical of, less dissatisfied with my children and husband. I will be concentrating more on the log in my own eye and less on the specks in theirs.

1 Timothy 2:15
Yet she will be saved through childbearing—if they continue in faith and love and holiness, with self-control.

linking up...

Building Cathedrals

There were three stonemasons, working in a stoneyard, cutting rough rock into square blocks. When asked what they were doing by a passerby, the first stonemason responded, "Cutting this stone into blocks."


The second stonemason replied, "Working, to make a living."


The third lifted his eyes toward the horizon. "I am building a Cathedral for the Glory of God, " he said.

I've heard that story before. I imagine many of you have, too. But when our pastor told it this morning after a sermon on vocation, work and doing whatever we do to the Glory of God, I heard it with new ears. Ears that had recently also heard the words of some girlfriends as we reminded one another that Motherhood is not just something we kinda do because we have children and someone's got to do it.

It's our vocation. Our career. Our Calling.

It's a good thing to remember, as we bathe and feed, admonish and correct, love and kiss on and clean up after these precious little nuisances, that we are literally raising up temples, the dwelling places of God's Holy Spirit.

1 Cor 6:19 “What? know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye have of God, and ye are not your own?” 

Our noisy, messy squabbling children, while it may not seem much like it in the moment, are living temples. Lord willing, they will one day be an actual repository of the Spirit of God.

This is a significant realization for me. It sheds a slightly different angle of light on the mundane daily tasks involved in keeping them alive and relatively healthy. I am as much engaged in building a lasting monument to the Glory of God by caring for my children as if I were in fact painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. My children's children's children will continue the line that my mother's mother began decades ago, just as surely as artist, stonemason, carpenter and monk have contributed their handiwork since 1473 to contribute to the beauty and majesty that defines the Sistine Chapel today.

I pray that as we wipe noses, mop up chins and diaper bottoms, we mothers can keep our eyes on the horizon and say by faith,

"I am building a Cathedral for the Glory of God."

I Forgive You

The Four Important Steps:

1) Express remorse...

"I'm sorry"

These words are at the center of the whole deal. They mean something very important, and I talk to my kids about it frequently. When you say the words "I"m sorry", you mean that you are repenting, turning away from a particular behavior, acknowledging that you were wrong and that you wronged your brother.

2) ...for a specific offense

"I'm sorry that I..."

This is the part most often left out of an apology for the purpose of "saving face." In order to truly apologize, you've got to acknowledge that there was some specific thing that you did that was a trespass against your brother. Something you did wrong. So many apologies that I've heard, given and received over the years are half-a$$ed measures that leave the person apologized to sounding like the guilty party: "I'm sorry that you got your feelings hurt" Oh puhlease. That's not an apology. There's no acknowledgment of guilt.

3) Acknowledge your need for the other person's forgiveness

"I'm sorry that I hit you, will you please forgive me?" (we're going with the most commonly heard apology around here for this example)

Once you've turned away from the sin and acknowledged your guilt, you still have to admit that you need forgiveness from the other person. In a way this validates the anger and outrage of the sinned-against. I did something wrong, something specific and you are justified in your outrage, but I'm asking you to put it aside and take me back as your friend. It puts the asker in a vulnerable position and forces a reversal in position between the two combatants. No apology is complete without this humility.

4) Forgive freely

"Yes, I forgive you."

In our house the rule is, once someone has complied with all the requirements of a proper apology, the offended person is bound to forgive-- no questioning of motives or sincerity allowed. Obviously this won't occur in every situation where my children offer an apology throughout their lives. I know there will be times when their vulnerability and humility is thrown back in their faces, when their apology is greeted with skepticism about their motives and sincerity. But for now, on the training grounds of our family life, this is extremely important. Only the Lord knows the heart of a man and in place of perfect knowledge, they are to give one another the benefit of Mercy. Even when there has been a serious infraction of household rules and some sort of correction or consequence is called for, if forgiveness is sought, then it is freely given. After forgiveness, then we deal with spankings or other consequences.

This last part is so vital for our family. Judah, in particular, with his sensitive heart has on more than one occasion wailed post-spanking, "Bu-bu-but you forgot to say I forgive you!!" Discipline administered in the atmosphere of repentance and forgiveness is SO much more effective.

I'm so sorry...

Shortly before we were married, I was given an invaluable piece of advice by my mother (I think... but I'm not sure... many people were giving us lots of advice at the time) This one piece of advice stuck most firmly in my mind and has affected our marriage perhaps more than any other.

"Make it your goal to always be the first to apologize."

Wise words.

As I mentioned recently in a Facebook status, my kids have been fighting A LOT lately. It must be their ages and stage of development-- it never used to be this bad. Perhaps it has to do with Judah moving out of the Baby place in the family, into Middle Child. But whatever it is, they are at each other day and night.

For example I just had to stop writing and pull them out of the pool, where they were engaged in a full-on fist fight at the steps. They are now sitting in deck chairs, glaring at each other-- a mandatory cooling off period before I go out and make them apologize to each other.

Last night in the shower (because, as I have mentioned, I do a lot of my deep thinking in the shower) I decided to take a positive approach to this situation and use this current tumultuous time in their relationship to more aggressively instruct them in the Art of Apology.

When we were kids, I remember apologies being an every-day part of life. It went like this:

*sounds of fighting*

*parental intervention*

"Tell your sister you're sorry!"

"SORRY!"

"No, say it like you mean it"

*mutter* "Sorry."

*muttered response* "That's ok."

End of story.

I don't think I ever noticed the inadequacy of this model until I once "accepted" an apology from a young child I was babysitting in this manner. His mother responded, "No, it's not ok, but you could forgive him." Embarrassing, for sure, but I've been grateful for her response since then because it has stuck with me over the years (as embarrassing encounters do tend to).

We've evolved a model for apologies over the years that I'd like to share with you in my next post. But I feel like I need to preface that discussion by saying that I in no way intend this discussion to be a criticism of the way our parents taught us. I mean, they introduced the whole concept of repentance and forgiveness to both J and myself. We're just improving the technique-- building on their foundation.

And apparently we're doing something right, anyway, because when I went out to talk to the kids, they had already apologized and reconciled and were waiting with penitent, downcast eyes :) I just sent them back into the pool. It doesn't really matter what who did to whom. The whole problem was that each had, in some way offended the other. But once forgiveness was asked and granted, it just didn't seem appropriate to discuss it further.

As always, y'all feel free to chime in with questions, ideas and suggestions :)

The lines are fallen for me in pleasant places...

I'm writing today from my pool deck....

I can smell the gardenias just outside the screen and hear the sound of the water splashing. The kids just ran inside to put on their suits for a morning swim. J and I might get in a little later, once it warms up, and sit on the spa bench and turn on the massage jets. I've got a cup of coffee, a book and a plate of grapes. I can hardly believe this is my life.

The past year has been unbelievably rough. If you'd told me on New Year's Day, 2010, what the next sixteen months would hold, I don't think I would have had the courage to face it. I would have crawled back into bed and refused to come out. I would have gone home to Mama and tried to hide there. Not that she would have let me get away with that, but I'd have tried, anyway. We have gone through some incredibly testing times-- not nearly what some of our friends have faced, but still, the toughest we've had yet in our nearly-ten years of marriage.

And yet, I can say today with completely honesty, that I am so blessed. So grateful that the Lord has brought us here. Not just Here; this physical location, but Here; this place in our lives, too. I am so glad that this year happened-- with all its pain and sorrow, all the uncertainty, the upheaval, the insecurity, the leaving. Because along with all those things came growing, and stretching and (hopefully) wisdom. In a perfect world, a world without sin, we'd have all the growing and the stretching and the wisdom without all the suffering. But in this world, to get the one, one must endure the other.

And so, while I once again have no idea what the next year holds, for the moment I am at peace. Something tight and braced in my heart is starting to unfold and relax a little more. Today, right now, I don't feel quite so rigid. Despite the broken vacuum cleaner, washing machine and dryer, the dying truck, the sick husband, the stressful work schedule, the absent family, the distressing anniversary coming up, and the physical and financial worries still plaguing us, I'm starting to be able to open my eyes a little wider and look around and see the Lord's hand in all the troubles and the struggles. I pray that I am able to continue in that peace even through the storms ahead-- able to trust the Lord's plan in the future as I remember His providence in the past.

And seriously, how unbelievable weird cool is it that we have a pool? With a spa bench? And massage jets??? Whaaaaa??? Like I said, I can hardly believe this is my life.

Heartbreaking.

From the friend of a friend of a bloggy friend.




Would you go here, buy some coffee and help my friend bring home her boys and start putting their hearts back together again?

Our church home group is studying The Screwtape Letters, by C.S. Lewis this semester. It's been a great read, full of convicting passages and rousing conversations. In particular we discussed something tonight that pertains to this blog. Well, it directly touches my parenting and friendships and, I suppose, indirectly pertains to this blog.

We were reading and discussing the tenth letter from Screwtape to his nephew, Wormtongue; the one in which Screwtape is "...delighted to hear... that (the) patient has made some very desirable new acquaintances..." Those new acquaintances turn out to be of the bad company sort that tend to corrupt good morals-- particularly those of a new Christian.

The passage that provoked my sudden return to the world of Real Blogging (as opposed to the pics and video that have been passing as "posts" here lately) is this:

No doubt he must soon realize that his own faith is in direct opposition to the assumptions on which all the conversation of his new friends is based. I don't think that matters much, provided that you can persuade him to postpone and open acknowledgment of the fact, and this, with the aid of shame, pride, modesty and vanity, will be easy to do. As long as the postponement lasts he will be in a false position. He will be silent when he ought to speak and laugh when he ought to be silent, He will assume, at first only by his manner, but presently by his words, all sorts of cynical and skeptical attitudes which are not really his, But if you play him well, they may become his. All mortals tend to turn into the thing they are pretending to be.

Take just a minute to think about that passage and the areas and way it may play out in your own life. No? Only me? Well then...

I know that this is something I struggle with often. I want to be liked. I want to fit in. I want to feel a part of whatever group I'm in at the moment. I want people to think I am whatever they think is awesome.

And here's how it applies to my parenting and, indirectly, this blog. If you've read my posts about Attachment Parenting, Babywearing, homeschooling, birth, and health, you know that I'm a pretty crunchy/hippy mama. I'm comfortable with that. Matter of fact, I really kinda like that image of myself. My friends back home are also hippy mamas, to a certain extent.

But then there are our ideas about child training. And the whole married-to-an-English-Teacher-Classical-School thing. And the tech-to-human ratio in our household. And my children eat stuff like Chicken Nuggets and cheez curls. And we've seriously considered attending an Anglican church. Or Episcopal. Or something similar also involving incense and chanting. Oh yeah, there's also now a mini van....

So, you see, I have one foot in each camp. And it's very tempting, when conversing with fellow members of either camp, to pretend that the other side of me doesn't exist. That I really am simply a dyed-in-the-wool Hippy Mama-- co-sleeping, delayed vax-ing, non-circ-ing and all. Or, on the flip side, that I'm the intellectual wife of an intellectual, who values "high" conversation, attends a high church and wouldn't dream of breastfeeding a two-year-old.

But the truth is, both sides have valuable truths. And I have good reasons for adhering to some of the various tenants of both stereotypes. Either extreme has it's problems, but a good balance of the two is exactly what I want in my life. The problem arises when I am reluctant to truthfully represent my actual beliefs out of intimidation and a desire for acceptance.

As I read that passage and pondered it, and as we discussed it tonight, I began to wonder about my new friendships here in Orlando and whether or not I've done a good job representing, unashamedly, my convictions. In particular, in the areas of mothering and... oh, wife-ing, or whatever you call it. I didn't come to any grand conclusions, but just a general sense of needing to renew my commitment to certain key issues and needing to be more bold in vocalizing my convictions when the opportunity arises.




PS. In case some of you who Know were wondering if I'm also thinking about Political Views in this conversation, you know it! But I'm totally not going there on this blog. Been there, done that. Not doing it again. No politics.

Quote of the Week

My dear friend, Laura, is sharing her thoughts on Grace today. Here is my favorite part:

I see Grace as a little, dancing, butterfly, fluttering around us always. And sometimes she takes our breath away by landing on us. And our souls are tugged upwards and for no good reason that is logical and sound we find ourselves with the strongest Faith and Love we've ever felt. We are sure that all is Good. We actually feel eternity.

Grace really is no small thing.

Go ahead, go read the rest. Take some tissues and let the Lord sent a little light into your life from someone else's journey.

From here to there....

...from there...



to here....




BOX-y THINGS ARE EVERYWHERE!!


I don't think, Laura, you knew when you gave me that little magnet just how significant it would become to me in the next week :) I've been holding onto that quote, and the promise the Lord seemed to give us with Jamie's name, tight with both hands for this whole last week. And it hasn't stopped yet. J is semi-stranded back in Savannah, Ga in an attempt to retrieve our delinquent, and supposedly repaired, Honda. It wasn't, and might not yet be, safe to drive. Not sure when he'll be home....

My house looks sad now

It's been nearly a month since I last posted. A month full of the most unbelievable heights and depths of human experience. In the last month we have...

mourned the too, too early passing of sweet Gwenyth and her Aunt Marie

greeted the LATE arrival of Lilah Grace

said hello and then goodbye again to a brother/uncle/friend

named our son; James Oliver Forshey ("Jamie")

sold our house

found an apartment

met new friends, here and in Orlando-- both

packed our house

begun to say goodbye to all our friends, family and dear ones here in Virginia

As I look around me at the detritus of the last nine years of my life, I am often overwhelmed with sadness. In so many way, the timing of this move seems to be so horribly bad that it cannot possibly be the will of God for us. Leaving Hburg right now, practically on the eve of the birth of our third child, at a time when my sister needs my help and comfort, when our dear friends are floundering in such depths of grief, when our church is growing and blooming and our family has set down such deep roots of friendships here...

And yet, at every step of the way, we have laid the decisions on the altar and let the Lord choose for us. And He has led us inexorably toward this moment. Time after time, we've come to a crossroad and haven't known whether to go left or right, and at the crucial moment the Lord has simply and beyond our control, eliminated one or the other road, leaving us only one way to travel forward.

But as I look at the last nine years of my life, now half-packed into boxes (how is it possible that nine years can fit so neatly into cardboard boxes?), I cannot help being overwhelmed with sadness, regret and a strong desire to run away from all this change, to go back to What Life Was. To return to the Familiar and the Comfortable.

I have all these worries and fears that my head knows are not of Faith, but my heart cannot find peace over...

what if I cannot find a midwife in time and we have to give birth in the hospital?

what if I can't find any friends who love to drink tea?

do they even drink tea in Florida?

where in the world will we find a ballet teacher as good as Miss Cindy?

who will I oooo and aaah over wedding flower magazines with?

who will be friends with my kids?

what if all the women are much more mature than I, and my Sex in the City references fall completely flat?

who will I go bargain shopping with?

do I really need to worry about alligators?

will I ever find another house like this one?

Can I make it without all my friends from Harrisonburg???

I don't know the answers to these questions. But all I can do is continue to lay it all on the altar and keep putting one foot in front of the other as God provides one more step's worth of light.

When all around my soul gives way
He then is all my hope and stay
In every high and stormy gale
My anchor holds within the veil

On Christ the solid rock I stand
All other ground is sinking sand
All other ground is sinking sand

Wondering about prayer...

Question: when you feel that the Lord puts a particular person on your heart to pray for during a morning prayer time, let's say, do you then go to that person and tell them so? Perhaps ask how they're doing, and how you might pray more specifically for them? Or is this something that may seem... invasive? I don't know. Is it perhaps to close to standing on the street corner to pray? Ought the promptings of the Holy Spirit to pray be kept "in your prayer closet"?

My first inclination is to go and talk to the person. I know how loved I feel when someone tells me they've been praying for me. But then, we've already well established, on this blog and elsewhere, that I'm far from normal, so perhaps I'm not the best judge of how the average person would respond. I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Boys to Men

It's a beautiful Saturday morning here in the Shen Valley and I've been sitting in my living room watching Judah out the front window as he revels in the glorious sunshine and warmth. As I'm watching him, I'm reveling in the un-abashed Male-ness of the toddler boy. He runs around, brandishing his plastic sword and hollering; "I am STRONG! I am BRAVE! I will FIGHT and I will WIN! I will kill aaaaaall da Bad Guys!!"

I love it.

I will be sad when, as he grows, he begins to temper this Male-ness with an understanding of what society expects of him. The swagger will become a little hesitant. The bragging, more subtle and less pure. His drive to lead into battle will be scorned by sassy little girls in pigtails who will giggle at him behind his back. His confidence in his strength and bravery will be tested by real challenges and real fear. His ideas of bad guys and good guys will be shaken as he realizes that it's not always easy to tell-- the bad guy is sometimes the guy with the smile and the firm handshake and sometimes the good guy is in disguise.

But, please God, he'll continue to grow and mature. And by Grace, he'll learn to boast in Christ alone. He'll lead his family in the work of establishing the Body of Christ, and his community and church in rescuing the lost and hurting. His confidence will be in the strength of his convictions and his bravery based on an assurance of Grace. Dear God, purify him with fire and give him a strong heart and a clear conscience. Give him the wisdom to discern between the good and evil in this world.

Lord, make him like his Daddy...

Apples of gold in settings of silver

Next to the Faith chapter of Hebrews, I think the book of James, in particular the first chapter, is my favorite place in the Scripture. I often turn to James at the end of another study or book, kind of like a refresher before moving on the something new. And every time I read it, there's some precise application to whatever issues I'm facing.

This time around finances are stressing us out. And here's what I found:

James 1:2-4: Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have it's perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.

1:9-11: But the brother of humble circumstances is to glory in his high position; and the rich man is to glory in his humiliation, because like flowering grass her will pass away. For the sun rises with a scorching wind and withers the grass; and its flower falls off and the beauty of its appearance if destroyed; so too the rich man in the midst of his pursuits will fade away.

I'm also struggling with some parenting issues, trying to find the balance between teacher and mom, discipline and grace, freedom and the law:

1:5: But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to you.

And I was also strengthened in my commitment to my daily time with the Lord. To let nothing keep me from His presence, first thing in the morning:

1:24 But one who looks intently at the perfect law, the law of liberty, and abides by it, not having become a forgetful hearer but an effectual doer, this man will be blessed in what he does.

Thank you, Lord for your Word! It is indeed a lamp for my feet.

An excellent woman, who can find?

I was talking to a friend recently about the importance of finding creative ways to help "pad" the family income by working from home. As I've been thinking about it since then, I've come to the conclusion that I believe that women, no matter what the family income situation might be, ought to be involved in some way, no matter how small, in bringing home a little bacon on the side. Now, hear me out. I'm not talking about a big career, or hours spent away from home and children. I'm talking about using your God-given gifts in the context of your home and family to make a little money.

For starters, it's a great way to involve your children in the whole "bring money in, sending it back out" thing. Obviously Dad is the primary provider, but they don't actually get to see that in motion. You know what I mean? Children can learn a lot about the value of money when they actually see what it takes to bring it in and then see how quickly it can be spent. And I think they can participate and be paid appropriately for their participation.

In addition, there's something to be said for a little nest egg in your top drawer. Maybe it's only ten dollars, but I know that when I have ten dollars of babysitting money in my Paypal account, I don't have to feel guilty about taking a little to use for the extras-- a new blouse for the Christmas Party, for example :) It keeps me from feeling sorry for myself when things are a little tight. Or at least, it ought too!

As I was thinking about all this, I decided perhaps I ought to consult the Scriptures before solidifying my opinion, so I did. Voila! Good old Proverbs 31! Read it and tell me what you think of my ideas :)


10 An excellent wife, who can find?
For her worth is far above jewels.

11 The heart of her husband trusts in her,
And he will have no lack of gain.

12 She does him good and not evil
All the days of her life.

13 She looks for wool and flax
And works with her hands in delight.

14 She is like merchant ships;
She brings her food from afar.

15 She rises also while it is still night
And gives food to her household
And portions to her maidens.

16 She considers a field and buys it;
From her earnings she plants a vineyard.

17 She girds herself with strength
And makes her arms strong.

18 She senses that her gain is good;
Her lamp does not go out at night.

19 She stretches out her hands to the distaff,
And her hands grasp the spindle.

20 She extends her hand to the poor,
And she stretches out her hands to the needy.

21 She is not afraid of the snow for her household,
For all her household are clothed with scarlet.

22 She makes coverings for herself;
Her clothing is fine linen and purple.

23 Her husband is known in the gates,
When he sits among the elders of the land.

24 She makes linen garments and sells them,
And supplies belts to the tradesmen.

25 Strength and dignity are her clothing,
And she smiles at the future.

26 She opens her mouth in wisdom,
And the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.

27 She looks well to the ways of her household,
And does not eat the bread of idleness.

28 Her children rise up and bless her;
Her husband also, and he praises her, saying:

29 “Many daughters have done nobly,
But you excel them all.”

30 Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain,
But a woman who fears the LORD, she shall be praised.

31 Give her the product of her hands,
And let her works praise her in the gates.


Man! I just love that passage! What more can you say? Isn't that the woman we all want to be? The woman we want our sons to marry? It covers pretty much everything.

First things first

Sam wanted to start his marriage off as a new man in Christ.

Shall we gather at the river, where bright angel feet have trod?

Gather with the saints at the river, that flows by the throne of God...

Everyone therefore who shall confess me before men...

I will confess him before my Father who is in Heaven.

Oh sinners, let's go down, come on down, won't you come on down

Oh sinners, let's go down, down to the river to pray...

Let's go down to the river to pray, studying about that good old day

And who shall wear the robe and crown,

Good Lord, show me the way!

In the name of the Father,

The Son,

and The Holy Ghost!

Continuing the conversation

I really enjoyed the discussion in the comments on this post about Musical Geniuses. Thank you all so much for joining in and sharing your points of view. I wanted to revisit the topic because over the time since then I've continued to ponder the issue. I've mulled over the comments and delved deeper into the reasons behind my stated point of view. I've begun to realize a change in my reasoning-- or perhaps a clarification...

One thing that stood out to me in what many of you said was a reference to God's influence in a person's Talents. Something I hadn't really plugged into my own reasoning on the subject. Many of you also applied the idea of Prodigy to other areas-- not just music, but art, writing, speaking, etc. This also I hadn't considered before. I had been thinking of the area of music exclusively.

So after adding these two ideas into the pot brewing in my mind, and also doing some "soul-searching" about where my ideas were coming from, what was the motivation behind my aversion to the term, "Prodigy", I came up with a few new things for your consideration.

First of all, my motivation. While I've never been labeled as an actual Prodigy (although some of my siblings (who shall remain nameless) have been at times), all my life I've stood out as Different from my peers. Or perhaps I should say, a select group of myself and some close friends have stood out as Different from our other peers. We were home-schooled, avid readers, highly articulate, motivated in drama and music, practiced in sewing and other home-crafts, lovers of dance and intellectual conversation. We were Creative. We were Artistic. We were Musical. We were Intellectuals. Those were the labels that set us apart from "Normal Kids". I know that sounds arrogant. I was indeed arrogant. Not consciously. I simply accepted the labels that were applied to me and assumed that there was something slightly better about me (you have no idea how embarrassing that is to write down in black and white).

As I got older, and as I moved outside my small circle of local friends and began to encounter people with talents different than mine I realized something about myself. I was no better than the next guy. Not really. There was nothing so special about Me, Myself, that set me apart from others as Better. Different, yes, unique in the eyes of the Lord, yes, but not Better. I began to look back on my teenage self with shame. And I began to reject the labels; Musical, Artistic, Creative and Intellectual. It positively makes my skin curl up when someone calls me one of those things. Not to be ungracious, it's just the context. You know? It reminds me of my arrogance.

So here's where the Lord comes into my new way of thinking about this. I don't think He made me intrinsically different from anyone else when it comes to my abilities in music, art and general creativity. He simply gave me a desire and a joy that is only fulfilled when I'm actively involved in one of those areas. It's not that I'm such a great and talented seamstress, I just DO it. All the time. Because I love it. My voice is physically not that much different than yours, it's just that I have a desire to develop my voice, to train it and work with it-- singing to the best of my ability brings me joy and I'm not satisfied with just singing, I want to sing better and better and louder and higher and stronger. I can't stand not to create things of beauty, so I'm driven to explore new ways of doing that. I try out decoupage and smocking and embroidery, I wall paper my dining room and research cool ways to paint my walls, I buy fabric almost compulsively.

I think every human is created in the Image of God and that this creative drive is expressed in different ways in different people, but it's all basically the same thing, in that it is an expression of the Image of God in man. So therefore, the five-year-old Musical Prodigy is no greater a person than the mother with four children who fosters five more because her creative-drive-expression-of-the-Image-of-God thing expresses itself in her mothering. Or the mom who spends all her spare time volunteering with underprivileged kids, or the guy who invents a new coding language, or the teacher inventing new ways to explain Einstein's theory of relativity.

So the reason that I reject the label "Prodigy" is that it implies something Better about that person than the average guy. What I now think about that person labeled a Prodigy, is that God has created him or her in such a way that they have a drive, a desire, a hunger and thirst in their particular area. That's what sets them apart. Not a Betterness, but a stronger Desire.

I still think that environment plays a crucial role in this whole thing, but I'm now seeing it as secondary to this Desire.

Whatcha think?

Meditating

I've been feeling myself stretched thinner and thinner lately by all the demands of projects, businesses, school, children, friends and family in need and in pain and the daily work of house and home. Sometimes I get a mental picture of myself as a spider with many legs being pulled in all different directions.

And then other night I was reading 2 Corinthians 3:6 and the Lord brought to mind our pastor's words recently. We're studying the Gospel of John and looking at the idea of "the Now and the Not Yet" (a popular idea at Christ Pres and Cov Pres and something we hear about regularly). He mentioned that we ought to be more conscious of Eternity-- our Everlasting Life with Christ-- in our daily lives. That is, Eternity starts Now. It's not some far away thing that we will eventually attain. It means Now, and then on and on forever. This can change the way you think about every day. How important is it really to get to the grocery store by ten if today really is just one day in Eternity? Think about it for a minute....

As I meditated on this concept I began to see that mental image of me; the tortured spider, morph into a bubbling spring with eternal streams of water running in all directions, and I remembered the words of that old camp song:

I've got a river of life, flowing out of me,
Makes the lame to walk and the blind to see;
Opens prison doors, sets the captives free,
I've got a river of life, flowing out of me.

Spring up, O well, within my soul;
Spring up, O well, and make me whole;
Spring up, O well, and give to me
That life abundantly.

It occurred to me that part of Faith is admitting that you cannot do it on your own, but you CAN do it in the strength of the Lord (as Jen talks about here). So the anguish and stress of my "over-busy" life is somewhat brought about by my own resistance to the busy-ness. Kicking against the goad, so to speak. The spider desperately pulling inward in self-preservation, setting boundaries that fence out those who need my help and listening ear, saying no when I should say I'll do what I can.

And that's been a key part of my meditation lately, realizing that my instincts of self-preservation can keep me from willingly and joyfully fulfilling my role as a servant in my home, my church and my community. Because if the Lord puts someone or something in my life, He will provide the resources needed for me to reach out to that person or situation. It's just a matter of me turning to Him, tapping into that River of Life and being willing to let the water flow out.

And that water flowing will make me whole.

Linking in to the I Am Blissfully Domestic link-a-thon :) Check out the others here.

Yeah, but it still sucks.

I'm writing a little sick at heart. It's a feeling I recognize. A little bit of subdued rage towards God and lot of frustration that no one (read:God) seems to understand that MY way is the better way here. It's a feeling I carried around in my heart for many long months as I realized that my dream of four or five stairstep children running around my feet, toddlers babbling to me as a breastfed the baby, three high chairs around the table, was not going to happen. Realized that God's plans for our family were very different than the ones I had cherished for us myself.

This time the dreams I see fading are ones of cousins racing around the backyard while sisters chat on the porch over iced tea or lemonade, sleepovers under the Christmas tree at Grammy's, halcyon summers full of daily visits to the pool and shared vacations to the beach, easily available babysitting (I confess), retail therapy with the only other person who appreciates a bargain the way I do, a confidant next door or down the street, shared pregnancies, filling an entire row at church, an accompanist, loving accountability and admonition a five minutes drive away, knowledgeable guidance at the Starbucks counter, watergun fights on the sidewalks full of chalk artwork.

But again, it seems that the Lord's plans for our lives are not the same as mine. And again, I will have to learn to let my "small" good give way to the (what I must trust is) greater good. And over time I know that I will begin to see the larger picture and I'll look back on this Extended Army Re-enlistment Time, as I do on our two years of Infertility, as a time of growth and good in our lives and the lives of our loved ones.

But for now, it still sucks.

Sadness seasoned with Hope and Faith