Jul. 4, 2009 -

He guards our home against ants and rowdy brothers. 

We are so thankful for our freedom and independence, and for those who guard our nation against it's enemies!

Enjoy the fireworks tonight!  We will!

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Jul. 2, 2009 - Frenzied Decluttering, or Where did all this stuff come from?????

The title of this post pretty much say it all.  But I will say more anyway. 

Due to some changes coming up (I'll write more on that when our hectic plans congeal a little more), I'm faced with the task of fitting our larger furniture and whatever else we can stuff in into a 9x12 ft. storage space and preparing for another move with the rest of the stuff.  I've always admired those folks in Mongolia who can fold up their yurt-houses and fit the yurt and everything else into a couple of carts.  I guess this season of my life is my chance to try my hand at efficient, stuff-free living.  So far I'm not doing so well.

Unfortunately I forgot before and after pictures.  In 3 days, I have pulled out 7 large garbage bags full of clothes and linens, 3 bags of books, and several boxes of miscellanae, all destined for the thrift store.  It was only on this third day that the house really began to show any real improvement.  I culled the boys toys, and sent half of them to the thrift store, but still ended up with a large tote locker (2x2x4 ft) stuffed full.  And that doesn't include the box of trains and tracks.  I think I can get their books into a banana box.  But the grownup books I haven't gotten to yet, and that's a daunting task.  If I could afford the shipping, I'd have a huge giveaway or something. 

Items of decor have proven a particular problem for me.  I have such emotional attachments to some of my dust-magnets.  How can I give them all away?  I put about half in the thrift store box.  The other half went in a tote locker and maybe I'll give them away if I haven't opened it up in another year.  The really delicate stuff I've wrapped and put in the drawers of the buffet, because those are still more things I just can't bring myself to let go of yet.  Never mind that most of them are dingy and dusty from dis-use, I'm not mature enough to regard them as the worthless clutter they really are.  They are "my precious....".

Clothes are another thing I need to finish.  I've sorted and pulled out to give away as much as I could.  About half of my clothes, and half of the winter clothes we had.  Why did we need two heavy jackets each?  I was able to vacuum pack the winter clothes that are left (thanks Mom for those bags!).  But I'm still left with about double what I want to be left with because of the problem of seasons.  Everybody needs warm clothes and cool clothes and with 5 of us that makes for a whole lot of clothes.  Simply living in the United States is a problem because society expects us to shower and change clothes daily.  We already skimp on the showers.  But since sensitive noses abound here, and we're trying to present ourselves as normal, well-groomed people, we can't get away with wearing the same shirt for a week, like we could in Ethiopia (where our boxes and bags of clothes would look like insane luxury and waste and where there are only two seasons: rainy and dry).

I still keep wondering how we accumulated all this.  We moved just a few months ago.  Surely we didn't gather it all since then?  And if we didn't, I feel terribly sorry for Josiah, who moved all of this stuff himself.  I hadn't realized the extent of our collection!  A lot of things prompted a very definite "What was I thinking" response when I realized I had purchased them myself.  Oh, the embarassment of clothes I'll never wear and books I didn't like once I read them and things I knew we didn't need but couldn't pass up the deal.    Hopefully I'll learn my lesson this time around.  Decluttering like this is a literal pain in the neck.

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Jun. 30, 2009 - Guest Blog: Multiple Streams of Contentment

My mother didn't smile on my wedding day. She spent the day overwhelmed with sadness although she loved me and loved my fiancé. He was everything she wanted in a husband for me. The wedding stayed within budget and everything went off fairly smoothly. My extended family all attended, everyone got along, and tried to cheer her up. Yet, my wedding photos will always show her sad expression.   The day before the wedding my mentally handicapped brother had lost his little job of waiting on tables at a school cafeteria. Although social workers could easily place him in a new position, mom remained discontented and focused on that problem the entire day. She made the mistake of magnifying one problem, so that it robbed her of joy on such a happy occasion.         Many people let one problem override all the blessings in their lives. It steals their contentment. They forget to trust their anxieties to God and rejoice in the blessings he has given them. Some people fixate on something until it changes their personality and fills them with negative emotions that spill out in sin. Herodias, in Matthew 14, is an example of a person whose discontent led to a life of sin. She had a husband but chose the sin of adultery. She must have been discontent with her husband. She felt more discontent at hearing John the Baptist speak of repentance and point out her sin. That led to her plotting the murder of John the Baptist. She trampled over people and even used her beautiful daughter to get her way. She ignored John's calls to repent, the one action that would have healed her heart and given her joy. Her bad choice snowballed into disaster for many.   In contrast, Paul spoke about contentment, in Philippians four, and said that he had learned to be content in prosperous circumstances and impoverished situations. His circumstances could not rob him of his joy or peace. It is very seldom that every detail in life is perfect because we live in a fallen world, but we can make choices that help us remain content despite our circumstances.           My mother finally discovered how to be content after a stroke left her partially paralyzed. She started to listen as we expressed gratitude for her life and what she could still do. When she complained that she could no longer do crafts, I mentioned that with her good hand she could write letters, a lost art, to grandchildren away at college and to her friends. She struggled to use a walker and spent much of her time in a wheelchair, but she spent time thanking God for her blessings of family, the patient care-giving of my father, the use of one hand, and a new ministry of writing letters of encouragement to family and friends. She realized that joy came as she filled her life with multiple streams of contentment.       Viewing all the different blessings in life is like seeing many streams that flow into an ocean or a lake. If one stream dries up, others keep flowing. One stream of contentment we can create is to do something for others. It gives us purpose. List your abilities and talents and consider ways to use them to bless others.  God is a giver of blessings. We learn in James 1:16-17, Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. Blessings from God may be in the form of friends, financial security, a home, health, pets, clothing, and food. The meeting of our basic needs is a gift. Each one of these can become a stream filled with blessings. So let the abundance of gratitude for blessings flow into your heart. Consider each aspect of life as a different stream. There is always one stream that is bubbling up with blessings to fill your life with contentment.           In Philippians four, Paul provides wisdom regarding contentment: he urges people to live in harmony, rejoice in the Lord, and give anxieties to God in prayer. He encourages people to let their minds dwell on positive thoughts, stating that we should think about what is true, lovely, honorable, pure, true, and anything excellent. Positive thoughts help our emotions flow in an optimistic direction. To do this, list the blessings in each stream of life.           Spiritual streams include a relationship with Jesus, prayer, church family, Christian music, Bible study, and church fellowship.   Relational streams include family, friends, faith friends, co-workers, acquaintances, and new people we meet.           Blessings in daily life include past memories, pleasant thoughts, encouraging words, compliments, accomplishments, laughter, and smiles.         In creating the world, God also created beauty to provide natural streams of contentment filled with beautiful sunsets and sunrises, wonders of nature, blossoms, gentle breezes, showers that cause the earth to spring forth in color, and creatures that scurry and fly about.        After listing the positives, praise God for each one. Thank God for each friend and every little circumstance that is going well.          Then list past prayer requests that God answered. Thank God again for each response. Then add any new prayer needs. It's easier to trust God and give away worries when you recall the past times when God met your needs.            To prevent the flow of blessings from drying up, of being blocked as a dam blocks a river's flow, spend time nurturing the streams. Paul's contentment continued in prison and despite hardships. He nurtured his relationships. He continually prayed and wrote letters. He sent greetings to friends and encouraged his companions and fellow-workers with praise. Paul's later years stood in stark contrast to the discontented man who watched alone, as his soldiers stoned Stephen (Acts 7:58-8:3). They placed Stephen's cloak at Paul's feet. It's a lonely image of someone isolated from others. He made threats from the anger of discontentment and asked others to write letters for him, letters to imprison Christians. As a Christian, he viewed the blessings in life as gifts from God and knew the joy of friendships. Paul developed a network of friends everywhere he traveled. And he encouraged his friends to live in harmony and stay focused on their relationship with Jesus. Paul's letters to Timothy urge Timothy to continue his relationship with God, to visit him, and to fill his life with loving actions.       Paul's wise words offer ways to keep the streams flowing. First, continue in your relationship with God. Do not let blockage occur from sin. His letters encourage people to keep the relationship with God right and strong. He sang songs in jail and praised God in the midst of trialsSecondly, work at relationships. Keep in touch with people, invite them to visit, praise them and express gratitude for their friendship. Paul generated streams in lives of others. Paul had discovered the truth of Jesus' words in John 7:38, "Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.   My mother suffered from cancer in the final months of her life. When she called to say she had cancer I asked, "Mom, are you ready to go home to the Lord?" She said, " Yes." I could hear joy in her voice in spite of pain that filled her body. My children put together little care packages and wrapped up a tiny treasure to open each day. They made little crafts, wrote cards, wrapped photos, and taped messages. She smiled at each little gift. She had something positive to look forward to each day. My father, her husband of fifty years, read Scriptures at her request. She nurtured the streams.   My mentally handicapped brother had to be coaxed to visit her. He didn't think mom would know him because she was so near death. As he entered the room I asked, "Mom, do you know who is here." She almost yelled, something very difficult for her to do and said, "Johnny. I hear Johnny." That melted Johnny's heart and he stayed by her side for the afternoon, holding a cup and straw for her to sip water.  She thanked him. She had learned to work at the relationships even when it became most difficult.   Until her final hours my mother did not feel pain. As she passed on to heaven, my dad and some siblings surrounded her. My mother had learned an important truth: streams of contentment can be a powerful force to ease pain, change our perspective, and create peace in our hearts.

About the Author: A creative person with creative solutions- that's Karen Whiting!  She has a heart for busy women and desires to help them free up time for what God has truly called them to do in relationships and ministry. She challenges listeners to discover ways to connect, serve, and treasure one another. Karen found time to follow God's call to write even while she and husband, Jim moved around the US and raised their five children. They currently live on Maryland's eastern shore and are new grandparents. An author of ten books for women, families and children, Karen writes to creatively strengthen families. Her articles have appeared in dozens of magazines, including Focus on the Family, Today's Christian Woman, Christian Parenting Today, and Parent Life. Karen has been named Who's Who of American Women, Who's Who in the World, and Professional Speakers Network member of the year award. Karen has been a guest on numerous radio shows and hosted the educational television series Puppets on Parade. With humor and inspiration, Karen loves to encourage women to nurture their relationships and family life. Find out more about Karen at her website http://www.karenwhiting.com/ To schedule Karen for a speaking event or interview, please contact Kathy Carlton Willis Communications at WillisWay@aol.com or check out http://kcwcomm.blogspot.com/ .

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Jun. 26, 2009 - Variations on humanity

I think most of us at one time or another think of children as a homogenous segment of humanity--they eat messily, sleep (and don't sleep), drool, dribble, drip green snot, use up a lot of diapers, get their clothes wet, and at least once in their life defy gravity by pooping up the back of their diaper and out the neckline of their onesie. 

I have always been aware of my children's differences from each other.  Though they meet all the developmental milestones at roughly the same pace, and do all the same basic baby and child stuff, they each have their own way of doing it, their own personal twist.  This is evident even in thier infancies, but becomes more and more obvious as they get older.  I was reminded of this by the photos they brought home from VBS last week. 

Asrat is sitting, with that strained look one gets when trying hard to smile "perfectly".  Someone must have told him "Show your teeth!" because his left upper lift is twisted upward revealing about 1.5 teeth to the camera.  He is happy, you can see it in his eyes, but he is tense because he wants to "do it right".  This is how he always does pictures, tense and grimacing, my perfectionistic first child.

Gebre is a whole different story.  He's standing for the picture, grinning to beat the band, his mouth stretched wide to show all his beautiful teeth.  His eyebrows are raised with the effort of his smile, and his shoulders are hunched up, his chin juts up and out.  He's putting his whole body and every last ounce of energy into this smile and the result is fabulous and hilarious.  I laugh every time I see that picture on my fridge.  It's just so...Gebre. 

Sometimes we do have the privelage of seeing into the future, if only dimly.  In some ways, I know what my boys will be like as adults.  Of course there will be circumstances we can't forsee, perhaps even life-changing ones.  But I can see their general trajectory.  Their personalities are already set, have been for a long time.  They experience things so differently, react to those experiences differently, and process everything differently.  Asrat gets upset when he can't do something right.  Gebre doesn't care, or else he argues with me about whether it's right (If he thinks 2+1=11, he won't hear any reasoning at all.  It's 11 and that's that).  Asrat is driven to move forward and do more and do better.  Gebre doesn't care (recurring theme there).  Asrat runs with Olympic posture, because that's how the best runners run.  Gebre runs like a bow-legged, loose-limbed clown and is supremely but cheerfully clumsy.  Asrat has his feet planted firmly on the ground.  Gebre is always somewhere up in the clouds.  Of course Asrat has his little-boy moments, and Gebre has his rational moments but for the most part the one is a perfectionist and the other a free-spirit (who does not always seem to be an Earthling).

I haven't figured out what category Biruk is in, but it doesn't matter.  He is yet another little guy who is his own person, different from the others.  Precocious, talkative, passionate, and the provider of any sound effects necessary...  It's easy to write about him often because he's so much fun. 

I think this is one of the reasons having more children is something I look forward to rather than dread.  Each one comes with the same basic mechanics, and the same needs early on, but each one is different from the other.  Each new child is a whole new person, a whole new set of opportunities to relate, a whole new learning experience for the rest of the family, a whole new perspective on the world and on life.  I find myself wondering these days, when God blesses us again, with Whom will he bless us?  What kind of personality will be next?  What new things will the next one teach us?  Who will that baby be?

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Jun. 20, 2009 - Fathers

A couple of nights ago we were awakened at 1 am by a young man rapping out on his porch.  I don't know which neighbor it was, just that it was a young man, and he was very angry.  And loud.  He continued on for a good 3 hours, during which time Josiah eventually had to get up for work, and I tried to sleep but couldn't because of the noise.  I was so angry and frustrated.  I thought of calling the police.  But then figured that would require more coherance than I was able to muster at that hour with that little sleep.  So I dragged through that day.

But the more I thought back on that young man, the more I realized that while he may have been drunk, or just rude, what he was singing/rapping was a heart-cry of the most anguished kind.  As we lay there in the dark trying to ignore him and the vile cursing that was part of his "song", I realized I was hearing the pain of a young man who is fatherless.  I'm not just guessing, either.  Snatches of the lyrics were very clearly about abuse and abandonment by a father.  The boy alternated between rage and line after line of vulgar invective to heartbreaking pleading reminding the now-gone father what a family is supposed to look like and bemoaning the lack of a cohesive family.

Realizing that, my anger dissipated.  We have a nation full of fatherless children, with the numbers increasing every decade.  Knowing this makes me all the more grateful for the wonderful father's I've come to know.  My own dad, of course, and now my husband.  I consider myself so blessed and fortunate to have been raised with a loving, kind, patient father in the home.  My husband is a different man and a different kind of father, but our children also have the blessing and the frank advantage in life of having a dad who is invested in them and their futures, and who pours himself out and sacrifices tremendously so that they can live well and be safe and comfortable.

I thank God for fathers who stick with their families through thick and thin, who give up their own lives for their loved ones, who don't abandon, abuse, or neglect.  May God give all of us with sons the grace and wisdom to raise them to be such men, to step into the shoes of their fathers and become wonderful fathers themselves! 

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Jun. 19, 2009 - Mighty Molly Mutz: A Family Life Broadcast for Grieving Families

I have been listening to Family Life Today all this week, and the story of Mighty Molly Mutz, a little girl who lived only 7 days but who's tiny life has now touched thousands.  The link is to the last in the series, but you can listen to the whole thing, as each segment is linked on that page.

We listened today on the way to the library, and I had to walk in there with reddened, tear-filled eyes, but it was worth it.  I was so moved to hear the thoughts of the parents and grandparents as they wrestled with the pain and confusion Molly's death, reconciled it with their faith, and made her short life one of beauty with a beautiful end.

Part of the broadcast was Chris Rice's Untitled Hymn which has always been a favorite of mine.  I will always think of Molly Mutz, and of my own baby when I hear that now.  Beautiful. 

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Jun. 19, 2009 - Adventures in Vacation Bible School

It's been an interesting week in our house.  Either one or both of the older boys have been gone for a whole four hours every evening, participating a local VBS program.  Our house has been positively quiet for many hours this week!  I learned a few things, too:

Asrat, at age 6, is perfectly well "socialized".  He could care less that I'm leaving him at an unfamiliar place with only a few familiar faces for 4 hours.  (We wouldn't have done it if we didn't know two of the main teachers who are our neighbors and fellow homeschoolers--we knew he'd be safe with them).  He has come home each evening happy and sweaty and exhausted.  This VBS theme was music, and apparently he's an expert at making trombone lips.

Gebre, on the other hand, got kicked out of class the first evening because he wasn't interested in sitting down at a table and listening to the teacher.  He wanted to play games, and do things his way.  Pretty standard fare in our house, but I understood why the teacher couldn't allow that.  Gebre usually runs away if he gets even a hint that someone is trying to teach him anything.  He's in the process of teaching himself to read in spite of this allergy to formal teaching, which confirms for me that sit-down formal school would be a hinderance to him rather than a help. 

Gebre also, when properly motivated, can put aside his normal tendencies and fall in line with the others.  When he realized how much fun Asrat was having at VBS, he decided he was going to go back (with the teacher's permission, of course.  She was very gracious).  He was very firm that he was going to stay the whole time.  And he did.  At the end of the evening I learned that there had been only one incident, involving musical chairs.  Apparently when he didn't get a chair, he was very offended and had a tantrum.  However, as he sat out watching the other kids play, the purpose of the game "clicked" for him, he figured out how it worked, and thereafter he was willing to play by the rules and had no more issues. 

Biruk, while happy for my undivided attention, was confused and rather distressed by the absence of his brothers.  Frankly, I think he was bored to death with nobody to argue with, jump on, or annoy.  He kept asking me "Where Adat? Where Gebbe?" and even filled in for them, stomping into the kitchen demanding "What fo' suppa?!" which is Gebre's habit, and "doing school" which is of course what Asrat is always doing.  When I put him in the car on the way to pick him up, he looked back at their seats and then at me with a question in his expression.  He was thrilled when we finally saw them and immediately started begging crackers off them.

It's definitely the third child that ups the noise and energy level so tremendously.  Even on the days that only Asrat went to VBS, those hours with just two boys were remarkably peaceful and quiet.  There's a dynamic with three that isn't there with just two.

For all the peace and quiet this week, I really, really missed my kids.  One week out of the year is more than enough "away time" for me.

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Jun. 19, 2009 - Father's Day Heartwarmers Guest Blog: No Cost Father's Day Gifts

From Sharon Lovejoy Autry and Laurie Lovejoy Autry

There we sat at dinner - a time that, in my mind, is supposed to be calm and non-stressful. (I've heard food digests better.) But, after a draining workday, little things can seem huge. The kids were planning yet another summer business endeavor which crawled all over my husband. He began lecturing the negatives of such an endeavor...point 1, point 2...I felt like we were in a business meeting. I must have rolled my eyes. I glanced at my daughter who wasn't listening to her father. She was looking at me. Her response to point 1 and 2: rolling her eyes.  

Children do what we do . . . Boy, that's a scary thought for me. How do you treat your husband? Do you respect him with your words, actions, attitudes, eyes? I struggle sometimes when I feel so justified in my disrespect. Can you relate? I think the best thing we as moms can do to help our children to respect their dad is to treat him with respect ourselves. Here are some Father's Day (and everyday) tips to help our children respect their fathers:

1. A compliment a day goes a long way! Brag on your husband in front of your children (and  in front of him).
2. Show me the love! Let your children know how much you love their daddy. Show affection in front of your children. They may say, "Yuck!" but it provides much needed security for their lives.
3. Instead of being put-out -Pray! Include your children in praying for dad's job, leadership, etc.
4. Give him grace . . . Show him grace even when he doesn't deserve it . . . remember, neither do we.  Nehemiah 9:17b says "But you are a forgiving God, gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love."
5. Phone Manners. Next time you are in the middle of something and your husband calls you on the phone, be aware of your tone of voice, are you respectful? . . . little ears may be listening and learning. 
6. "Daddy's Home!" Be as excited to see your husband when he comes home from work as your children are! Make yourself stop what you are doing to greet him.  
7. Choose your battles -When you think your husband is being unfair (and it's a battle you need to fight) talk to your husband in private; listen first and speak last. Psalm 141:3 "Set a guard over my mouth O Lord; keep watch over the door of my lips."

Try these no-cost (big rewards) Father's Day gift ideas and see if it proves to be the gift that truly keeps on giving!

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Jun. 18, 2009 - Father's Day Heartwarmers Guest Blog: Meeting Daddy

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Jun. 17, 2009 - eenie-meenie-miney-moe

And the winner this time is Katie!  She gets the book Eyes Wide Open.  

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Jun. 15, 2009 - Father's Day Blog Tour and Giveaway!

Here we have some titles especially for dads to enjoy!

A short read, but a good one, The Disappearance of God by Albert Mohler addresses the Christian faith in the context of our postmodern age.  Has God changed his mind about sin?  Why do pastors tiptoe around the subject of hell?  What about the "Emergent Church"?  Is the social justice movement misguided?  Is liberal faith any less destructive than atheism?  How do we see God, and is our view correct?

Sir Dalton and the Shadow Heart is above Asrat's level right now, but I know he will enjoy it when he's a little older.  Sir Dalton is a young knight in training, and on the fast track to success.  But the King and the Prince are away, times are good, and the knights have become comfortable and unwilling to heed any warnings about attacks from the Enemy.  This is an allegorical tale that a young boy may enjoy, with enough adventure to keep his interest and a hefty does of truth.

Finally, for the giveaway:

I had it all backwards. The main thing was not my love for God, but his love for me. And from that love I respond to God as one deeply flawed, yet loved. I’m not looking to prove my worth. I’m not searching for acceptance. I’m living out of the worth God already declares I have. I’m embracing his view of me and in the process discovering the person he created me to be.

In Eyes Wide Open, Jud Wilhite invites you to discover the real you. Not the you who pretends to be perfect to satisfy everyone’s expectations. Not the you who always feels guilty before God. Not the you who secretly feels God forgives everyone else but only tolerates you. Not the you who looks in the mirror and sees a failure. The real you, loved and forgiven by God, living out of your identity in Christ.

A travel guide through real spirituality from one incomplete person to another, Eyes Wide Open is a book of stories about following God in the messes of life, about broken pasts and our lifelong need for grace. It is a book about seeing ourselves and God with new eyes–eyes wide open to a God of love.

Post a comment and I will pick a winner on Wdnesday, and hopefully get it to you in time for Father's Day!

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Jun. 13, 2009 - And at the end of summer days...

....this sometimes happens:

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Jun. 13, 2009 - Lazy Summer Days

We eat breakfast on the porch...

We paint...

It's interesting to observe their different artistic tendencies.  A few years Asrat would draw something and then cover the entire page, and his drawing, with black.  When he drew his family, we were all black.  Not brown, but real black.  And then he started drawing sharp teeth in the mouth of every person he drew.  I was beginning to get worried, but he eventually shifted to more normal kid stuff--line drawings of cars and innumerable watercolors of boats on the ocean.  Every once in a while he slips in a whale with sharp teeth and mouth wide open ready to attack the boat.  Even so, I'm fairly sure at this point that his psyche isn't seriously damaged.

Gebre has been entirely different.  He never really liked drawing.  If I could get him to, for a couple of months all he'd produce were rainbows.  Now, though, he's discovered the joy of watercolors and is in a "brown" stage.  He's mixed all the colors of his paint tray to come up with varying shades of brown and then slap it on the paper.  Mostly he won't tell me what he's making, but he did once.  His response to my query was rolling his eyes and saying "It's a tree stump of course!".  Right.  Of course.

Biruk is yet another story.  He has loved to draw since he could get ahold of any writing implement.  At first, he drew on his legs, his hands, his face, his mouth, the wall, and the table.  But I've finally got him remembering to ask for paper.   He's very deliberate about his drawing, and likes to make small, detailed marks.  He'll draw a bunch of circles and tell me "O's!  Really O's!!"  He'll pick a red marker and tell me his drawing is "Elmo's World!".  He'll cover a whole piece of paper with 8 different colors, lines, circles, shapes, dots, little squiggles....all applied with utmost care and a great deal of thought.  Unlike the other two, his first experience with tempera paints didn't turn out a mess of brown and black.  He kept the paints separate, or mixed them carefully to get the shade he wanted.  I wish I'd thought to take a pic of that one.  Below, he's explaining his picture to me.  This one is done with those No-Mess Crayola finger paints, and I'd like to take a brief moment to highly recommend them.  They're a little greasy, but if you can't stand the thought of wiping a rainbow off your children and the table, they're perfect. 

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Jun. 11, 2009 - Not brown, Chocolate!

I can't decide if this incident means I'm not doing my job teaching my youngest his colors, of if it means he's thinking more independently and brilliantly than a 2 year old should.

The other morning we were all trying to wake up, and I had Biruk in my arms, just rocking and talking and both of us trying to keep our eyes open.  Eventually, he sat up on my lap facing me and started Looking at me.  Really looking.  Then he pointed to my eyes and said "Chocolate!  Eyes Chocolate!!". 

What a lovely way to start the day, talking chocolate.  Of course, the other boys had to gather 'round and ask him if they had any chocolate on them, and he made the grand discovery that he and his brothers are just "Chocolate" all over!

Surely there's a crayon in those big Crayola multipacks that is called labeled "Chocolate" and I can label this as knowing his colors, because he absolutely refuses to use the word Brown.  Probably too boring.  And Brown doesn't taste that good either. 

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Jun. 10, 2009 - Two Must-Read Books

A while ago I mentioned the documentary A Walk To Beautiful.  If you haven't seen it yet, do it soon.  The doctor who started the fistula hospital featured in that movie has written a book called The Hospital By The River.  It is a much more in-depth look at the work she and her husband did, as well as their personal histories, how they ended up in Ethiopia, how the hospital came to be, and more.  What the documentary doesn't say is that Dr. Catherine Hamlin and her husband Reg went to Ethiopia as medical missionaries.  Serious Christians, both from long, long lines of Christian missionaries.  They felt God called them to Ethiopia, and to the work they did.  Their committment and faithfulness and the compassion for the women they served flowed directly and abundantly from their relationship with God.  These are people who stayed on in Ethiopia to serve those women even when there was a coup, then a civil war, and at one point bullets flying through their own windows.  They mixed with royalty and the high class, and delivered the grandchildren of the Emporer Haille Sellassie, but they didn't lose their love for the common Ethiopian, or their Ethiopian "family" that they had aquired over the years.  Dr. Hamlin still serves the women of Ethiopia, although her husband died some years ago.

On a completely different thread of reality, The Blood of Lambs is a memoir of former terrorist Kamal Saleem.  As a boy in Beirut, he was recruited by jihadis.  An easy target because of the pain and rejection he'd experienced in his childhood.  He was trained as a "warrior", participated in battles and slaughters, lied his way into America with the intention of participating in terrorism here, and then through a chance accident was introduced to the love of Christ through people who he'd been taught all his life would hate him, cheat him, or hurt him.  The jihadi met Jesus.  He now lives in hiding, writes under a pseudonym, and trieds to warn America of the danger we face, risking his life and the life of his family in doing so.  This is not a treatise against Islam, but a blunt documentation of a real threat.  Saleem is equally blunt about the civil war in Lebanon and the participation of Christians in violence there.  That helped shape his hatred of Christians, in fact, and fueled it until he met Christians who lived the Bible and demonstrated the love they were supposed to.   Love triumphs in the end.  But in the meantime, we must be aware of the world around us. 

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Jun. 9, 2009 - Guest Blog: Saved By The Bell-A Summer to Remember

Now, this is directed at mom's who's kids are out of the home in school 9 months out of the year, but we homeschool mom's can take a few lessons too. 

from Sharon Lovejoy Autry, mom of three....

The final bell rang. The kids screamed for joy. Mom sits in the carpool line wondering, "What in the world are we going to do all summer?!" 

Maybe as summer has begun, you've found yourself resentful and angry because your children constantly "interrupt" your schedule. If that's how you're feeling, you're normal.

But, wait. We wanted these kids, right? Are they really interruptions or blessings in disguise? How can we move from simply surviving the summer to making it a summer to remember?

Here are a few ideas to get you out of the summer survival rut:

1. Realize they won't be this way forever. What is it about your kids that you won't have in two years? If you are a parent of:

• Preschoolers: Look at their hands and notice how tiny they are. Enjoy that.
• Elementary children: When you're away from home, call them. Their voices sound small on the phone. That always reminds me to enjoy their innocence rather than expecting them to act like little grown-ups.
• Tweens: Laugh at and enjoy their giggles (usually girls) and the fascination they have with being gross (usually boys)! Hopefully that won't last forever!
• Teens: Even if they are driving you crazy, make your home the safe place. I still remember the fun place our parents created at home. It was our refuge. Let kids feel safe in your home by cutting down on the criticism and looking for ways to build them up. Mom and Dad's secret was a ping-pong table. We spent hours there.    

2. Say "no" with a smile. It makes you and your child feel better. They know you have some regret at having to say no. You are on their team.

3. Play music. Anger and music don't usually dance. Movie soundtracks, praise songs, music from my teen years or even classical stations. I rarely find myself upset with my kids when we have music playing in the background.

4. Go outside. Sometimes taking a walk or bike ride with the kids can do wonders to change everyone's perspective.

5. Things aren't always as they seem. Remember that the way you are seeing things at this moment is probably not how it will look in a couple of hours. Frustrations can build and dissolve quickly when you have kids.

6. Offer them 30 minutes of your time. After they have helped pick up around the house let them pick what the two of you will do together and watch their eyes light up! For older kids, offer them the day off after helping for an hour.

7. Ask your kids what they think is fun. You might be surprised to find that their idea of fun often doesn't cost any money. My sister was amazed to find that her 7-year-old son's idea of "fun" was playing tag in the front yard with dad, mom and his little sister.

8. Slow down. Successful parenting doesn't mean you have your children involved in every possible extra-curricular activity. Successful parenting means you are there for them. If you've been running all year, it takes "practice" to enjoy staying home. Don't give up. Turn off the computer, TV, cell phone, etc. and read or play games (no matter what the age of your children).

9. Pray. When you are at your wit's end, ask God to help you remember what to do with your kids. On our own, it's hard to enjoy the moments because "life happens." But God has a way of giving us perspective that will slow us down and help us see our families the way He sees them: with love and compassion.

The next time you blow your top or realize you're just surviving your kids instead of enjoying their clumsy feet, silliness, or their constant desire to talk on the phone, stop and think, "one day I'll miss this!" The funny thing is, tomorrow we'll be longing for today. If we choose to think like that long enough, the kids won't be the only ones sad to hear the school bell ring this fall.  

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Jun. 6, 2009 - "If we are to err, let us err on the side of life..."

"...Let us choose life, that the world may live. And let us pray."

The final thought from an article on the First Things blog, entitled "Tiller, Long, Bonhoeffer, and Assassination".  Good stuff.  Much more eloquent than mine.

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Jun. 5, 2009 - Why Do We Drive Ourselves Crazy?

 Having commented on the obsessive organization of one particular famous mother lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about how often her upset is due to feelings that most of us have, just on a larger (and more public) scale.  And much of that upset, in her and the rest of us, is self-induced.

 I know that many mothers struggle with feeling overwhelmed at the task, resentful sometimes of the way it never ends, unhappy knowing that a tidy living room will quickly devolve into it’s previous state of disorder.  I know I feel that way at times.  And then there is Mother Guilt.  There is always something more I should have done, something I could have done better, something I wish I would have done except I didn’t have time.  Coulda’, shoulda’, woulda’!

 Yesterday I did get a lot done.  Bathroom clean, bedding changed and washed, floors vacuumed, kitchen tidy, laundry folded and put away, children fed, loved, read to, taught their lessons, played with…It was definitely one of our better days.  But at the end as I was turning out lights and heading upstairs when I dared to think with happiness of all that I gotten done, the guilt-devil on my shoulder kept whispering things like,  “Yeah, but look how dirty those baseboards are! Disgusting!  And you let the kids watch two videos today and didn’t go for a walk!  What kind of mother are you, anyway?!”

Now, I am a big believer in contentment and maintaining a peaceful state of mind.  In other areas of my life, this is not a problem.  I have matured enough that I’m pretty much unflappable in most situations.  I know we always do the very best we can, and what happens will happen and we will figure it out somehow.  But when it comes to my children and my home (they’re intertwined, you see), I’m still pretty much a mess.  And I don’t think that is a positive component of our family life.  I like to think that I am not compulsive about such things (and if you visited my house you’d never guess, believe me!) but I have found myself fussing at energetic little boys for using the couch as a launching pad after I’ve just adjusted the pillows.  I’ve looked down at our carpet and thought “Clearly all this detritus is alive and crawls out from under the furniture at night because I just vacuumed this floor yesterday afternoon!”.  Now, I find myself writing about it and notice than when talking about the children and the housework, often the housework comes first in a sentence.  Ouch. 

 There isn’t a tidy, pleasant end to this ramble, because I don’t have an answer.  I’m still in the middle of it.  But there are a few things I know….

I know that I do care about my children and do my best for them.

I know that my feelings aren’t their fault or my husband’s fault.

I know that anger and resentment don’t help me here, but do a lot of damage to myself and others.

I know that I probably could use my time better some days.

I know nobody in the world really cares if my house is magazine-perfect.

I know that I need to put first things first (God, husband, children) and not obsess over the state of the house.

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Jun. 3, 2009 - A Pro-Life Response to Dr. Tiller's Death

What a mess we are in, huh?  A killer kills a killer.  One is called a martyr, the other a murderer.  Only the martyr is a martyr because he believed that the ending of human life is perfectly acceptable so long as it's still in the womb.  The murderer is unquestionably a murderer, but now others are being held responsible for his actions merely because they were voluable about their belief that life in the womb is valuable and should be protected ("hate speech" legislation, here we come!).

There are a lot of emotions tumbling around right now.  Most of them are understandable, on both sides.  I can understand the anger and sadness from people who genuinely believe Dr. Tiller was saving women's lives, even though I completely disagree with that assessment of his actions.  I can also understand the confusion in the pro-life community over what we should feel.  After all, if we believe that the unborn are valuable human lives, then we believe Dr. Tiller was a long time committer of legalized murder.  But if we believe all life is valuable, can we rejoice in his slaying?  The answer should be a resounding "No!"  One of the worst attitudes a person can have is rejoicing in someone else's pain.  That should not even enter the mind of a Christian.  How can we as believers rejoice in a killing and hope for someone to spend an eternity apart from God?  If that is how we feel, then the other side is right, we are a bunch of sickos.  Let us prove them wrong, please!  And on the other side of this, it is shameful that abortion advocates are taking this opportunity to try to silence pro-lifers completely by slapping the label "Domestic Terrorist" on anyone who speaks up, and trying to pin responsibility for this slaying on people who have never advocated violence in any way and who thoroughy condemn this act and all violence.

So, what should a pro-life Christian feel in response to the killing of Dr. Tiller?

In my opinion, the overwhelming emotion should be sorrow.  There is much to be sorrowful over here.

A man was murdered.  In a church.  A family lost a husband, father, and grandfather.  The slain man died having spent nearly 4 decades ending the lives of the unborn and was by all accounts unrepentant.  The killer, well, he's a murderer.  He took vengeance when he had no authority to do so.  He has ruined his witness and brought shame to the name of Christ.  He has dragged the pro-life movement through the mud because of his foolish and horrific behavior.  The murderer's action set back the cause for life years, and perhaps has permanently changed things for the worse--in this way he may well be responsible for the deaths of many more unborn, having strengthened abortion advocacy and given abortion a saint/martyr.  Both men will face the ultimate Judgement with blood on their hands.  All of this is cause for great sorrow.

If we are Christians, our example is Christ.  It is true, even He displayed righteous anger in the Temple.  But did He kill?  No.  And when a disciple of his sought to defend him with a sword, Jesus not only rebuked the disciple but healed the man who the disciple had injured.  Jesus saved a merciless persecutor of Christians--a killer, essentially--in a dramatic way.  That was Saul, who became Paul, the apostle to the Gentiles.  Throughout history, we have seen murderers and wicked men make an about-turn, weep over their evil acts, and spend the rest of their lives atoning.  It happens regularly still in places where Christians are severely persecuted, and the Church in those places has the right response--accept their former torturers and killers with love and open arms, as brothers in Christ.  Even those of us who believe that Dr. Tiller was essentially committing murder on a daily basis should have desired that he live to have radical encounter with Christ.  We should love enough to want even the worst of the worst to experience the life-changing love of Jesus.  We should be so full of the love of Christ that others experience Him through us.  If we do not have that kind of love, then we are not Christians at all.

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Jun. 2, 2009 - Visiting the River Brethren: A brief trip becomes a very long blog entry

Sunday we made a rare trip outside our little bubble here, and headed for Chambersburg, where a friend of mine lives.  She and her family had visted us several times and we felt it it was our turn to make the drive.  And what a lovely drive, early Sunday morning, hardly any traffic, over the mountains in early spring.  It took 2.5 hours, and the boys did so well.  We had crammed them into our little Nissan because the van wasn't working properly, but there was only a little complaining towards the end of the trip. 

The plan was to meet our friends at their church service.  Three River Brethren congregations were meeting together for a 5th Sunday "Love Feast", so the service was held on a farm, in a barn.  In spite of the service being vastly different from what we're used to, it was wonderful and I dare say refreshing.  I was so worried that my children would misbehave and not be able to sit through the service, but they were just fine.  I am firmly convinced now that children take their cues from other children and from the adults around.  It's no wonder that our kids have trouble sitting still during a noisy, high-energy service.  But for some reason it was no trouble for them to sit through 2+ hours of the River Brethren's service.  Perhaps the novelty of being in a barn had something to do with it.  Quite a few of the church's children arrived at church barefoot, there were sparrows flying around in the rafters, and the occasional scrappy-looking barn-cat wandering through as well, so plenty to look at.  The service included a testimony time, 2 different preachers, 3 seperate on-your-knees prayer times, more testimony time, and a lot of singing.  The preaching was on Pentecost, of course, and the Holy Spirit's impact on our lives.  It might have been from men in black suits and long beards, but it was impassioned, heartfelt, and wonderful!

One interesting thing about the service that Josiah and I both noticed was that even though the seating was gender-segregated, the men's side had just as many infants and children as the women's side.  There was even a "Men's Nursery" set up (seperate from the lady's nursery, naturally)  in case a daddy needed to take a child out for a diaper change.  In that particular church, it seems that the father's are more involved even than many men who would consider themselves more educated and egalitarian.  I mentioned this to my friend and she laughed and said "Well, when you have that many children, the mom's can't do it all!".  Isn't that interesting?  A strict, conservative church which places a great deal of emphasis on gender roles and traditional lifestyle...and yet the dads are expected to be involved parents, and loving, tender parents at that.  The whole attitude towards children was also very down-to-earth and lovely.  Nobody shoots daggers from their eyes when your baby babbles or giggles.  If anybody turns their head to look at you struggling with a fussy baby, it's with a sympathetic smile.  Normal baby and toddler noises are completely ignored (or occasionally chuckled at), and you are safe from uptight ushers who in other churches might insist you leave lest you disturb all those spiritual people with your noisy child. 

After the service the barn "church" was quickly turned into a "dining hall", and we sat down to lunch together.  Many people remembered me from 10 years ago (I was 16!) when I had gone to their Youth Retreats, or from 6 years ago when Josiah and I were at a wedding out there.  Everybody was so open, and so friendly.  For me it was wonderful to be in a place where people could wholly accept me even with our differences.  There is no pressure to join their church, no judgement of where we are spiritually, no looking down noses or sideways glances.  I have told my friend very bluntly that Josiah and I are both leery of churches with strict rules and regs due to our own experiences, and she understands.  She has been a faithful friend all these years anyway.  Josiah and the children turned some heads, being the only brown people in the group, but the children soon made friends, and Josiah quickly found plenty of people to chat with.  He was most impressed with the young people and said several times he could hardly believe such teenagers could exist in America.  They were attentive in the service, as quietly friendly as their parents, and when we got our car stuck in the field/parking lot, a bunch of boys came hurrying to help us out.  When Josiah thanked them their response was "Oh, no trouble, that was fun!".  Where we live now, you wouldn't want a bunch of teenage males to approach your stuck car...you'd be dialing for help, more likely.

The only downside in the whole thing was that I wore the wrong skirt.  I'd picked it for it's muted colors, length, and fullness, trying to be very respectful of the church's dress code.  Well... as it happened, Sunday was a very windy day and my skirt was very light and I spent a good deal of time trying to hold the stupid thing down.  Those smart River Brethren ladies were wearing skirts not quite so full, and heavier gauge material, but they graciously chuckled with me over the unhappy combination of wind and flapping skirts.

We spent the rest of the afternoon at our friend's farm.  They have a beautiful, huge old farm house that has been in the family several generations, and a small dairy.  It's beautifully kept, of course.  Josiah and my friend's husband walked the property and visited his dad down the road, the children played happily and my friend and I watched them and had a nice chat.  Josiah didn't want to stay for supper as he wanted to get home before dark, but we got a tour of the farm before we left.  They fed us strawberry shortcake before our departure, though, and they sent us away with 4 dozen eggs fresh from their own chickens, and some of that morning's milk.  Asrat also came away with a black eye after falling on his face on their concrete walkway, but otherwise the whole trip was surprisingly uneventful.

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