The whole of creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth as it awaits its final redemption from the effects of the fall. ~Romans 8:22

As my grandma lay dying a year and a half ago, I was struck by how her suffering reflected the pains of childbirth. I felt as I watched that she was somehow being "born" ino heaven, passing out of the pain of this world to be caught up in the loving arms of her Savior on the other side, as all the angels stood by watching in joyful anticipation. I even had this Norman Rockwellish image in my head of the whole event. While it was very sad for all of us, there was a certain beauty in the process.

Yesterday, this thought came back into my head as I was reading from a book called Blessing Your Husband by Debra Evans. After quoting Romans 8:22, Mrs. Evans goes on to say, "Though it is easy on difficult days to forget our ulimate goal, our labor and groans are deeply productive where God's eternal purpose for us is concerned.  'For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:17-18' "

Not much is said about the symbolism of childbirth in the Bible, but there it is, an answer to the question of suffering and a picture of our salvation, put into words that only a mother could fully understand. That's just an awsome thought, isn't it, that God is speaking specifically to us who have gone through the pains of childbirth? Just picture the whole of creation groaning in the midst of labor, and then that final moment when the child arrives and there is instant and complete relief, and overwhelming joy. Our labors are over, our sinful natures are gone, along with all the pain that accompanies them. Amazing! And not just us, but someday "the whole of creation" will feel that relief. Don't you long for that day?

Ducking, dodging, and hiding is a common occurance wherever cameras are found. (Let's face it, some of us just aren't that comfortable with our photgraphic image.) But with the  increasing popularity of digital technology comes yet another reason to hid our faces- and those of our children- from the lens.

Warning! This photo may appear on Facebook!

It seems like everywhere I turn these days I find my childrens'  names and faces plastered on the internet. And, to be honest, I find this frustrating. Though my husband and I  have tried to protect our children by keeping their personal information private and by not posting their pictures in public places, there is no way we can control the actions of others.

So, what's the solution?

Should we, like a  Scrooge of the blogosphere, approach each party with a request to remove the offending snapshots? Or should we arrive at every social event with an announcement of our wishes? Is it even reasonable to expect that our wishes be followed in this area?  Does it really make a difference anyway?

Any thoughts?

Meet our newest addition:

"Cracker Jack"

born August 12, 2009 at 6:06 AM

8 pounds, 2 ounces; 21 inches long

Yesturday we found my four year old's cat dead in the road. After her initial grief has abated, she began to worry about the kittens. Who would feed them? Who would protect them?

I assured her that the kittens would be fine. They are old enough now to be on their own, which is why we have been trying to find new homes for them.  But she was still worried, especially about Cherry Dumplin, the kitten we had told her she could keep as a substitute. (dark grey one on far left)

As we were putting things away and closing the house up for the night, I noticed my oldest son carrying a wooden box out to the back of the house. He had spent the afternoon building his sister a cat house out of scrap lumber. She was absolutely thrilled.

Someday she may appreciate the fact that she has brothers who protect and care for her. But for now, she is content knowing her kittens are safe.

I stepped out on my front steps this afternoon to be greeted by the sight of our cat nursing five brand new kittens. She had given birth to them on a pile of clippings left under the holly bush. This is her second litter and, just like last time, there are three white and two grey kittens. We aren't sure if they were born last night or this morning, but since I was an Easter baby myself, that is my vote.

Here is SnowWhite as she looked when I first found her.

And here are the kittens. The third white one rolled out of the "nest" when its mama stood up, so it didn't get to be in the "group photo."

We quickly made up a box and put it under the bush for them and Mama cat moved them in right away. I'm sure those old holly leaves were  pretty uncomfortable.

My daughter decided she wanted a Strawberry Shortcake theme for her party. "No problem," I thought, "I can handle that."

Then she started getting specific. She wanted me to put Strawberry Shortcake, Apple Dumplin, Pupcake, and Custard on the cake. Hmm . . . maybe I could find something in the toy department that would work? It could be a combination cake decoration and birthday gift.

Wouldn't you know it, Strawberry Shortcake is now COMPLETELY out of style! The only thing I could find was a bottle of bubble soap with a soft rubber Strawberry Shortcake on top.

It was time to get creative. I pulled out my lapboking supplies, turned on the computer, and went to work. A quick Google search turned up some really cute Strawberry Shortcake clipart.  I saved the ones I needed and printed them onto cardstock. My older daughter cut them out, I laminated them, and then she cut them out again. We then taped a length of drinking straw to the back of each so they would stand up on the cake.  My daughter was very pleased and it was a LOT easier than trying to do everything with frosting. 

I also printed some additional clipart onto a full sheet label. We used some of these "stickers" to decorate some pink party napkins, and my older daughter cut the rest out to give her sister as a birthday present.

What would I do without my printer?

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
Earth’s joys grow dim; its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me.

I need Thy presence every passing hour.
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s power?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.

Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.
Heaven’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

In Memory of  Grandma Betty

April 28, 1920- February 25, 2008

When you have a lot of children, people inevitably want to know when the next one will arrive. For the past several years I've been telling folks we are in a holding pattern because we weren't planning to have more, but we hadn't done anything to permanantly stop having them. 

For a while I said I might consider another one when the youngest was about five, but the closer that day got, the less inclined I was to reenter the world of pregnancy, labor, sleepless nights and dirty diapers. I've enjoyed sitting at homeschool outings watching  my older children play as my friends wrestled  fussy babies. I was  thankful to be past that stage.  This summer I even got rid of all my baby stuff in preparation for moving.

OK, you can stop laughing now.

Number eight is due in August. My husband and children are ecstatic and their enthusiasm is contageous.  I'm still not looking forward to pregnancy, labor, or all that other stuff, but it will be very nice to have a little one around again.

My daughter and I attended an open house last Saturday at the home of some friends who make goats' milk soap. I wish I could post the soap on my blog so you could enjoy how wonderful it smells, but I'll have to settle for pictures. If you're interested, they do have a website you can order from.

Faith Mountain Farm

my two favorites scents

Some of the Faith Mountain goats

Look at that gorgeous view!

Earl Grey

Dexter

Smokey

Snowdrop (eating a shrew that her mama caught)

On Labor Day weekend, the entire town of Hillsville, Virginia,  becomes one giant flea market. Most people who live anywhere nearby are sane enough to stay at home. But in thirteen years of living here, I haven't missed it yet.

You used to be able to find some really good deals there, but in recent years it seems to be mostly food and antiques. I think about the only reason we still go is to get socks for the kids. You can't beat four pairs for a dollar. The boys have also been able to find themselves some great deals on workboots the past two years.

And look what else I found this year!

Puppets! Yipee!

Last month, on a particularly hot day, I decided to discard my preplanned menu and cook up some breakfast instead. After all the comments from husband and children on how this was the best supper we'd had in a long time, I decided there was no reason we couldn't do this every week. So now Monday nights are breakfast night at the Telling home. Usually we just have pancakes and sausage, but ocasionally I cook up some eggs too.

So what traditions has your family started recently?

Here is a more recent picture of our little kitties. Sadly, we lost one. I think the mother smothered it.  Aren't they cute?

The mother cat's name is Snow White. She was named by my three year old. I think it's a pretty clever name considering we have seven kids.

Do you see her two colored eyes? When we studied Turkey last year, we learned about the swimming cats of Lake Van. They are called the Van Keddis and they are white with one green eye and one blue eye- Just like our cat!  Isn't that neat?

(No, ours doesn't swim.)

See what we have at our house?

My blogging friend Jimmie  has inspired me to stretch my brain by writing the title to my own memoir using only 6 words. I was leaning towards "You'll miss me when I'm gone"  since that's what I tell my husband when he complains about something I've done.   I also came up with a few that summed me up really well, but were a little too personal to post on a pubic blog. But I finally settled on a fragment of one of my favorite verses:

YET, THE LORD THINKETH APON ME

"But I am poor and needy; yet the Lord thinketh apon me." Psalm 40:17a

I'm also supposed to tag five other bloggers.

1. My real life friend, Karen from Fritzemeier Family Blog

2.  Sonia from My Homeschool Treasure Trove

3. Heather from VA Homeschool Mom For God

4. Sharon from Momn4Boys

5. SchoolinRhome from School In R Home

The rules
1. Write the title to your own memoir using 6 words.
2. Post it on your blog.
3. Link to the person that tagged you.
4. Tag five more blogs.

Yesterday I was teaching my daughter a song I had learned as a child. It was actually used in a hand clapping game my sister used to do with her friends while we road on the bus (in the four years I attended private school before my parents began homeschooling). Unfortunately, I was the "pesky" little sister, so she never bothered teaching the hand motions to me.

The song went like this:

Say say oh playmate

Come out and play with me

And bring your dollies three

We'll climb my apple tree

Slide down my rainbow

Into my cellar door

And we'll be jolly friends

For ever more.

After indulging in this bit of nostalgia, I began thinking about some of the other childhood games I remember, but haven't taught to my children, and all the ones I've probably forgotten.  I was thinking it would be nice to make some kind of website to record these games. That afternoon, I received this email from the Games For Learning Yahoo Group list:

I have an idea I'm starting to put into action that I need your help with. I've created a group at YouTube for people to upload videos of step-by-step instructions of children (or grownups) teaching how to do different playground games.

Examples would be:

hand clapping games
jump rope rhymes/games
chinese jump rope
traditional/chinese jacks
hop scotch
playground ball games
cat's cadle/string games
etc etc

The idea being a place to go to be able to learn all these wonderful games from our childhoods and to be able to pass them along to the next generation and so on. I want to see a resurgence of these games! I know they are still out there but doesn't seem like they are as prevalent as they used to be so I want to change that!

So help me out!! All you have to do is get your digital video cameras out and let your kids know that they can be a star on YouTube and help share some fun games with kids around the world! Break the how-to video up into short segments...Multiple videos will probably be necessary for many of the games...Just make sure you label them all with the same title and a very clear "PT 1, PT 2, etc" and go through it slowly and carefully to ensure that its easy for someone who's never heard or seen the game to be able to fully learn it from your video. Once you have a video you're happy with, go to the link above and join the group and upload it!

Make as many of these instructional videos as you like...Even ones that have been done already because there are so many variations of so many of these games! Ihope you will help me out and that your kids will enjoy making how-to videos!! I hope to hear from many of you soon!

Let me know if you have any questions.

Tina

Talk about providential! I love when God works things out like that, don't you? If you're interested in seeing what is posted or posting some videos of your own, please visit Playpalooza. Let's all renew our childhood memories this summer and help our children create some of their own. (And if any of you know the hand motions to THIS clapping song, I'd be extremely greatful if you'd teach them to me.)

What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.  James 4:14b

I've known for a long time that I would eventually have to face the death of my mother's parents, but I was still unprepared for the shock of that phone call four Sundays ago. "Grandma's dying, " my sister-in-law told me between sniffs. As I probed her for details, we both burst into sobs. How could we face the loss of this woman who had meant so much to us all? 

"When will you be heading up?" I asked. She wasn't sure yet. My brother had told her they might leave the next day to give them a little more time to recover from the stomach flu. I thought about the two day drive they had ahead of them. I was pretty sure they wouldn't wait.

Four hours later, my own family was packed and on the road.  It was a ten hour trip to Michigan. A phone call to my brother's cell phone confirmed my suspicion. They had left two hours before and were also speeding down the highway, hoping for one last chance to see the precious soul we couldn't ever imagine being without. Every one else was already gathered at the hospital.

"It isn't fair!" my mind argued. "After all these years of living so far away, when my husband finally decides to move to Michigan, why now? Why couldn't our house have sold? She was so excited when I told her we were coming. And I really wanted the kids to get to know her better. I'm not ready to let her go. It isn't fair!" Yes, I know that life isn't fair. If it were, things would be much worse. Still it was hard to grasp this news which came with so little warning. Flu . . . hospitalization . . . pneumonia . . .kidney failure . . . heart attack . . . congestive heart failure . . . only days, maybe hours to live. It was just so sudden.

We arrived at 2:00 AM. My husband dropped me off at the hospital and stayed in the car with the sleeping kids. I woke my aunt, who was sleeping in a chair by Grandma's bedside. Grandma was sleeping peacefully and I hated to wake her, but Aunt R. did it anyway. This might be my only chance to say good-bye.  "Mom, Melissa's here."

 I kissed her as the tears ran down my cheek. "Hi, Grandma. It's Melissa. I'm so sorry! I'm going to miss you so much."  I wasn't sure she could recognize me. Her breathing was ragged. Her voice weak and horse. It was hard to believe that this broken, suffering body really belonged to my dear sweet Grandma. I couldn't bear to see her, but I couldn't bear to leave.

Grandma drifted back to sleep and my aunt and I chatted. "You can stay the night if you want, " she said. I breathed a sigh of relief and called my husband so he could take the kids to the hotel for the rest of the night. Coming was hard, but leaving was harder. 

"Thanks." I told her.  Something about her response made me think she was glad for the company. None of us wanted to face Grandma's death alone.

The hours ticked by and none of us got much sleep. Grandma squirmed restlessly,  her back aching from days spent in bed, her breathing tube irritating her nose. I watched my aunt massage her back and offer her occasional sips of water.  We watched the clock, hoping my brother would make it in time.  "Tom's coming," my aunt told my Grandma. "he'll be here soon."  She seemed to be waiting for him.

After a couple hours of sleep, squeezed in between interuptions as we sat wedged into uncomfortable chairs, we noticed that Grandma's breathing had changed.  My aunt suggested we have the family members come to the hospital as soon as they could. It was about 5:00. I called my brother. They had stopped for the night and wouldn't be there until after lunch. We were getting nervous.

My aunt stepped out of the room to get some coffee. I sat by the bed, stroking my grandma's swollen hand. Her arm was covered with bruises where they had failed to insert an IV. Her ventilator  let out a steady beep. Her breathing slowed. Where was my aunt? I couldn't face this alone! Should I call someone?

My worries were in vain. Grandma continued to live (for a whole week in fact), and soon the room was full people. Grandma asked if she could go home.  "Not yet. You need to rest," we told her. She tried to climb out of bed, but my mom and aunts restrained her. "You aren't strong enough to stand up," they told her.

I'm sure the sight of the family standing in a ring around her bed must have startled her. "Why are you all here?" she demanded. "Everyone out!" she waved us out of the room.  We all filed into the hallway, insisting that Grandpa should stay. We weren't sure what she was going to do. I think she just needed some time to think.

We all went down to a family waiting room and sat chatting, catching up with each others lives. I couldn't help thinking how Grandma would love to be a part of this, and yet she was all of it. It made no sense. And yet, it made perfect sense that this woman who was the glue of our family should bring us together even in her death.

And so began one of the most horrible weeks of my life, and yet one of the best. Life is full of contradictions: That I could spent almost thirty-three years of my life taking from my Grandma, and receive a greater blessing from one week giving back. That watching her die to us was like watching her being born into heaven. That I could spend precious time with my family while losing an important part of it. That I could become closer to my Grandfather as my Grandmother drifted farther away.  And that I could miss her so terribly and yet be glad that she is no longer here.  

I do wish you all could have known her. She was quite a woman. And while she,  like the mist,  has slipped away, her legacy lives on.

Below is a tribute I wrote for her two years ago. Thanks to everyone who expressed their sympathy. It has been a comfort.  Melissa

Grandma,

When I think of you, I think of how you have devoted yourself to making those around you feel special and loved. Almost all my memories of you involve you giving something- money, gifts, time, or attention. If there was ever anything you knew we needed or wanted, you would try to give it to us if there was any possible way.

You made yourself a part of our everday lives. You came to the important events: baptisms, grandparents days, plays, graduations, soccer games, professions of faith. You went on outings with us, took us along on errands, and picked and canned fruit with us. You invited us for sleep overs and let me sleep on the floor by your bed when I got scared and cooked whatever we wanted for breakfast. You kept a special drawer with special toys just for us and you had another drawer filled with candy that you were always happy to share. You baked cookies and cakes and bought donuts and came and had coffee with us. You bought groceries and clothes for us. You saved bones for our dogs, toilet paper tubes for our hampsters and gerbils, greens for our rabbits, scraps for our chickens, and the last piece of steak from your dinner for Mom. You spent hours knitting us mittens, socks, sweaters, and washclothes. And you were always there when we needed you, like when Mom cut her hand cleaning the cupboards and you not only took her to get stitches, but came back and finished the cupboards.

You were always patient with us. You never got upset when we were loud or wild. (Yes, I know I was loud and wild.) And I can only remember one time that you punished me, and I cannot remember what for, only that I was shocked that I had actually done something bad enough to deserve it from you. You always gave the impression that we were the most wonderful and important people you knew, and we never felt like we were a burden to you.

Holidays would not have been the same without the care and trouble you took to prepare special meals and add special touches (like Andes candies on the buffet). Even if we were not there to celebrate with you, you did all you could to bring the celebration to us by sending Valentines, Easter candy, Christmas cookies and such. And you were always glad to provide anything we felt was necessary to our enjoyment of the day.

You showed us an example of generosity through your generosity. And you showed your love for us through your actions. You have sacrificed for us, worried over us, laughed and cried with us, worked and played with us. Some people are worthy of love and honor simply because they are what they are- a grandmother. But you have set a higher standard for all the others. You have shown the love of Christ to us, and like Him, we love you because you first loved us.

We picked up this bamboo infused rice at the health food store because it looked like fun. Don't you think this would have been a great meal for St. Patrick's day? Ofcourse, since the 17th of March happens to be one of my children's birthday, we usual don't do much in honor of Ireland's patron saint. However, I did put green food coloring in the milk one year. My husband, who hates rice as much as I love it, surprisingly had a much milder reaction to the bamboo rice than he did to that milk. 

OK, just for fun, I have an assignment for you.

When a recent hail storm broke the stems of some of my budding daffodils, I brought them inside and placed them in a vase on the table.  Just a few hours of warmer temperatures was enough to encourage them to bloom.

Now, I can think of several analogies I could make using these flowers; analogies dealing with life and suffering and analogies dealing with education. But what do you think?

If you're feeling philisophical, please leave me a comment. Thanks!

I wrote the first three verses of this poem for a college writing assignment way, way back BC (before children). The last three were added a few years ago in honor of my grandparents. I think the railroad theme is perfect for Lilliput Station, don't you?

The sun was warm apon our backs,

As we kicked the stones along the tracks.

Mom and Dad on either side,

And my two steps to match their stride.

The birds had gathered in the trees,

To send their songs apon the breeze.

As the sun beat down apon our backs,

And shone a glare on the railroad tracks.

Mom and Dad on either side,

And my steps matching every stride.

And the gentle humming of the bees,

Brought back faded memories.

As the sun burned down apon my back,

And sweat blocked out the railroad track.

My parents no more at my side.

No longer able to match my stride.

The sun shone golden through the trees,

As we once more made memories

A little child on either side,

Doing their best to match my stride.

And the birds were nesting in the trees,

And a hush had fallen on the bees,

As I glimpsed the sun's fast fading rays

Fall apon my last track walking days.

My children walking side by side,

As I stumbled along with my crippled stride.

And I watched them go as I stayed far back,

No longer able to walk the track.

They had grown up strong and good and kind,

And as they walked away, I didn't mind.

Though I was no more at their side,

Their steps still matched my every stride.