Posted in The Christian Life

I finally made an attempt to get outside today and get something done out in the sun. My intention was to prune the roses; they'd been left to their own devices all summer, and had run out of places to sprout new buds. So I turned up the tunes while dd was doing her math, opened the window so I could hear it, and headed out with clippers in hand.

Half an hour and one rose bush later, I noticed the morning glory blooms reaching up above the flax -- quite a feat in my crazy flowerbeds. So I abandoned the two climbing roses in favor of saving my gardens from being strangled.

I cleaned out three flowerbeds before I wandered over to the herb garden. Already, I had fed two armloads of the vicious vine to the chickens, and the heat was getting to me. But my poor herbs were all bent over and tangled together. So, despite the screaming coming from my hamstrings, I tackled the neglected patch.

This herb bed was a dream of mine back when I married my darling husband. He's a chef and I'm definitely lacking in the cooking department, so I was trying to find a way I could contribute in the kitchen. I had drawn up multiple plans for herb beds, everything from traditional English knot gardens to postage-stamp plots around a hoped-for mailbox, but as yet, I hadn't had a mailbox, let alone a piece of dirt to plant in.

When we moved into this house a decade ago, it was a faded, old mobile home set in a forest of what I call "spider trees" -- those evergreen shrubs that attract every little bug in the desert. We tore out the shrubs, moved away for three years, and then moved back in with a small child in tow. Now we had bare ground and a poorly planted lawn; I wanted something fantastic to come out of the humiliation of being an architect in a trailer.

The west end of the house faced the pasture, the railroad tracks, the road and the beautiful Beezley Hills -- all the things that kept us entertained, but it also bordered the driveway. It wasn't a place we'd go to sit and watch the sunset, and other than my small (at the time) white rose bush, I didn't have anything I could put there that I would venture out to care for.

My solution to this was to plant herbs there. I figured that there wasn't enough exhaust and pollution there to worry about killing them or making them unhealthy for us, but they'd also have plenty of sun. They'd be close to the house in the cold winter months. Best of all, I'd have a reason to go take care of them, seeing how I was going to provide my husband with the choicest herbs for his culinary creations.

I planted three flavors of thyme, two of oregano, my hubby's sage plant from his mother's house, a few chives, and a handful of strawberries. That was six years ago. Now the tarragon is overrunning the old sage and the rose bush, the remaining Greek oregano has filled out the rest of that half of the bed, two thymes remain and have edged out the strawberries, peas, and second sage, and the two types of chives are being taken out by the mint that managed to sneak its way in. The rosemary never survives the winter, and the lemon balm hasn't yet taken hold.

I love this herb bed. It has a wild mind of its own, and besides the mint bed, it's the only area of the yard that I'm particularly proud of. No matter how seldom I actually weed it, I always wander back into the house dreaming of pasta and baked potatoes and summer and purple flowers covered in honeybees.

Today, though, I was angry. These horrible weeds had taken over my precious herb bed in my absence, and were destroying my sweet plants. Another armload of morning glory over the pasture fence and I was ready to give up, but compassion overwhelmed me and I dove back in, cursing the green invaders.

Suddenly God began to speak to me. It was the story of the harvest that was infested with weeds, but the workers were told to leave the tares until harvest time, when they would be separated at last from the good grain. I was having such a hard time finding the roots to these vines that I was pulling out beautiful oregano and thyme along with them. Every time I grabbed for vine roots, I also got herb roots.

At that moment, I understood God's heart. I know a young lady who's straying from Him -- more than one actually, and this applies to all of them. I've tried to counsel them, to help them, to explain God's heart, to warn them from my own experiences why the path they're on is so dangerous, all to no avail. And my heart breaks, but more out of knowing the hard road they have ahead of them than out of truly understanding the heart of God.

Today the Master Gardener was telling me to leave it to Him. He was saying that He'll deal both with the crushed plants and the evil weeds. He's the gardener and I'm just the hired hand. He knows how best to deal with them, because He loves them. I love my little (big?) plants because I planted and raised them; He loves us because He created us! He's angered when the weeds come in and strangle His precious children, and He knows which are weeds and which are just happy invaders who mean no harm. He can care for the wounded and strangled ones, without damaging or uprooting them in the process.

As the Gardener's helper, I need to hold up the wounded ones until He steps in to deal with the problem, and prayer is the best beanpole I know.

Matt 13:1-5

Posted in The Christian Life

Yep, once again, my health has taken over my summer plans.

I was hoping to get online tonight and post some fun thoughts from my weekend rafting trip, or a cheerful hooray because we finally completed Philippians in our women's study after a year and seven months (which we did tonight, BTW).

Instead, I get to tell you that my right eye (the good one) just hemorrhaged again, after seven months. Stepped off the platform after worship yesterday and suddenly couldn't see out that side. Wonderful.

I'm doing better now emotionally. Everyone else seems more upset about it than I am, maybe because I've been through it several times before. The thing that I'm getting this time around is that it's like the grieving process in a way.

I was supposed to teach Sunday School yesterday, so in the rush from worship to the classroom, I pretty much tucked it away -- that's the denial. "No, it has to be something else. I don't have time for this." A mother and daughter came in and took over for me (they knew because the dad is the elder that I asked to initiate prayer after the service, since Pastor was already starting the lesson). That was such a blessing, and allowed me the time to fully comprehend what was happening to my eyes.

When the board prayed for me, I finally hit the grief stage. Having been through this, I knew that surgery will follow (pray for me on July 1), and that all the things I meant to do this summer will be put on hold or canceled altogether. It also means that whatever progress I've made in controlling my blood sugars went out the window with the pizza and pop I had Saturday night, and the McGriddle I had that morning (my assumption may be wrong, but I'm assuming that's the reason it happened at the time it did). So I cried, but only for about five minutes.

Now, that's not a brag. That's almost a criticism of myself, actually. With all the changes that will occur in my life in the next six months because of this, I should have cried for at least an hour. Five minutes. I don't know whether that's good or bad. Either way, It's grieving, and I hit it in front of most of the church.

The next part, the acceptance and coping, seemed to hit immediately. I worried about the plans Dan and I had with our friends and a river raft; Dad ended up taking my place on the raft, and Mom drove me to meet them afterward for dinner. I was still running around encouraging ladies to come to Bible study, and talking about next week's Sunday School lesson, and making plans for the ladies' activity in a week. If it wasn't for the blur in my vision, it would have been just any other Sunday. Almost sounds like denial again, doesn't it?

I thought so too, until today. Now I see it as the anger stage too.

My pastor's wife was sick and home from church yesterday, so she called today to pray with me and find out how I was doing. She said, "Dani, I don't even know how to pray for you." Most everyone's just praying for my eyes and my vision, but Pastor and his wife are both nurses, and understand that it's more than that. The whole thing is so complicated, and this is so common for diabetics, that simple prayers for vision and health every week, every day, seem to be not near enough to address the real issue.

I told her that my prayer request is for peace and rest. I go through stuff like this all the time. Comas, broken bones, vision problems, pain in my feet, threats of dialysis, so many other things, all the time. I actually said, "I just want to be left alone." Not being isolated from friends and people who love me, but from the constant feeling that my life is one disaster after another. From the sorrow I feel for my family who has to care for me instead of enjoying the summer, or the carefree days that we watch other families share. From the physical suffering. From the comments like "what is it this time?" or "It's always something with you, isn't it?"

I began to understand Job in a different sense. He lost so much, much more suddenly than I have, but a deep loss nonetheless. He mourned over his loss. He bent under the weight of it. He begged God to tell him why, to stop the pain and loss, to explain Himself. He buried himself in what had to be done, burying his children, cleaning up the mess that his life had become, all the while questioning God and feeling angry at no one in particular.

I know how that feels. I'm not angry at God; I've known since I was a child that I would endure these things before His promised healing would come. I'm not angry at myself; I may not have my diabetes under complete control, but I try every day. I'm not angry at doctors, family, society, anything. I'm just angry, and hurting, and frustrated, and tired of the battle.

When I think of Job sitting in the dirt, scraping off the scabs with broken pottery, listening to his best buddies say, "Give it up, Dude. Curse God and die," I now see the tired eyes that look up and respond with quiet determination. "Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him."

My eyes are tired, but this won't stop me. I'm reading, but with glasses now. I'm driving, but with a strength in my left eye that I never had before. I'm teaching from my memory and from the promptings of the Holy Spirit. I'll get through this, just like I have every other disaster that's befallen me. My God is bigger than the Boogey Man (thanx, VeggieTales), than the prince of this world, than this disease. This will all be to His glory someday. In Philippians 4, at the end of the chapter and of the book, Paul says, "this suffering is nothing compared to the glory that He will reveal to us later." Amen; this is truth; it can't be argued.

In the meantime, pray for me. For peace in this storm. For patience with all the changes and frustrations that come with this. For grace in accepting the help of my family and friends. For the faith that I know God is creating in me. Thanks.

Posted in The Christian Life

Remember that editing project I was working on months ago (yes, back when I abandoned my blog yet again -- what of it?)? Well, I received the book in the mail yesterday!

The paper I was editing was published as an appendix to a reprint of "The Battle for the Bible" by Harold Lindsell, which was originally published in 1976 through Zondervan. This version is abridged (removing a few chapters on specific church movements of the 70s), and includes an intro by Chuck Smith, founder of the Calvary Chapel movement. His brother Paul is the one I was working with, and our paper is found in the back of the book. They put my name on the title page as the editor of the appendix.

My name has been in the paper more times than I can count, and some of my work for them doesn't even get an official byline, so I've probably had a few hundred of my articles, stories and ads be published locally. This, though, is way more cool. In a book!

They did a press run of 3000 books, hoping to give them out at the various pastors' conferences around the country. Right after publishing, the east coast conference ordered 2000! Wow. Humbling. The main conference is next month; at this rate, they're going to need to print more in a hurry. We'll see what they do.

I could care less about my name being in lights on some marquis. I'd much rather see it in print! Now to prepare for the backlash from the other side ... pray that God gives us wisdom and compassion.

Posted in The Christian Life

I don't know why I have this kind of writer's block. I have years' worth of notes and studies I've done that I can pull out and bring in here. I read all the time and have amazing (to me, anyway) thoughts about these readings that I can share. But somehow, when I sit down to the computer -- and sometimes even when I'm just thinking about sitting down to the computer -- I can't seem to come up with anything to say. How does that work?

I did get invited to edit and write for Pastor Paul. We're trading emailed versions of the paper as each item gets corrected. I suppose this will ensure that we pay our internet bill on time. This paper will be used as an introduction to a reprint of a book that hasn't been published in 30 years. Then I may have the opportunity to help him write up information on a regular basis for the pastors. I know my typing doesn't express it clearly enough, but I'm ECSTATIC!!!! Wow. What God has planned is never what you expect.

So, in deciding that the best way to prepare yourself to write is to read -- a lot -- I'm reading all sorts of things ... the Bible, books on the Christian walk, books and magazines on homeschooling, Christian novels, old books (like Jane Austin), and ministry newsletters and websites. I'm listening to nearly as much, from news with a Christian worldview to home educators' seminars (thank you, Dana!). The interesting thing I'm finding is that, no matter what the source, the materials I've surrounded myself with involve either the inerrancy of Scripture (and/or how we apply that Scripture if we really believe it) or just simple truth in general (as in the social ills portrayed in Pride and Prejudice). Even our deacon who taught church yesterday (our pastor and wife should be home from vacation today) touched on this subject.

This morning, my dd and I decided to try to read the Bible in a year. We found a website (actually, it's Answers in Genesis) where you can create your own reading schedule, using various formats and starting dates. So, today was the first three chapters of Genesis. My little one was commenting on how evolution differs from the Creation account. I was able to begin teaching her about trusting the Word, partly because of another conversation we had last night. We had spent some time at Voice of the Martyr's Kids of Courage site, and were reading about the Muslims in Morocco and around the world. We read that less than half of the Christians who claim that they read the Bible (a very small number already) also believe that it's the inerrant Word of God! My little one was appalled.

How can we call ourselves Christians -- followers of Christ -- and yet not read or believe what He says in the Bible? And yet so-called Believers are falling for the teachings of Rick Warren, Bill Hybels, and even Oprah Winfrey -- that the Bible is irrelevant, outdated, flawed and outright NOT the Word of God Himself. My heart grieves for them. They're getting lost in a deception straight from Satan himself, one that is extremely difficult to explain to them while they're immersed in such an overwhelming "experience." Without the foundation of the Word, no experience is accurate and no freedom is true.

I know I'm probably preaching to the choir, but it's so prevalent these days. I can only pray that God protects our minds and hearts, and opens our eyes to the lies that lead us astray. Sorry I'm being so heavy today, but this is such a heavy burden. Ask Him for wisdom, and He will give it to you -- James 1:5.

Posted in The Christian Life

I caught something today in Hosea 4. Verse 6 says, "My people are destroyed for a lack of knowledge..." Now, how many times do we hear people (I think I've even said it) say that this says that we need to know as much as possible about any sort of plan, because we're doomed to fail if we don't know what is or has gone on.

That's not what this passage is about. The context is tied up in judgment of Israel for their sins, and specifically here for the sin of the priests. This is a statement to the priests, who have refused to teach the people about God and His ways, that they too will be taken down when God deals with Israel. Verse 1 says God has a legal complaint against Israel on a number of counts, one being that there is no knowledge of God in the land. Having told the people several generations earlier to "teach their children" His ways, to remind them constantly of His precepts, to tell them how He brought them out of Egypt and out of the wilderness -- here God brings this transgression of His own command before them, and then lays out the judgment.

Interesting. So our kids "are destroyed for a lack of knowledge" about God! I don't know what that says to you, but it tells me that my little one is right where she belongs, learning about God, His ways, and His love for her every day -- not just on Sunday. It also tells me that I need to keep it up, even ramp it up; last thing I'd want is for her to not remember Him and then be chastised by Him all because of my failings.

It also tells me what kind of knowledge is important. Not just sucking up every bit of news that comes on, researching any other topic to the Nth degree, reading just to be reading (though all of those have their appropriate place, and for a limited amount of time) -- my desire for knowledge should be centered on learning more about Him.

That's my thought for the day.

Posted in The Christian Life

I sent off the corrected copy today. I can't wait to see where this goes.

I get an email from him the other day. Said he had been given permission by this scholar's family to publish his books, and that he believes I'm a vital link in that process. Wow. Humbling. And exciting at the same time.

I called to talk to my mom, mostly because my hubby was already asleep for the night, and she reminded me of a conversation we had over ten years ago. God had been very clear that I was not to go into an architectural firm, that He had something better for me. After throwing a royal fit, I began to ponder what talents He had given me, and what He might have for me to do.

Not expecting all the wonderful things I could never have dreamed of, like my beautiful daughter and homeschooling and writing cancer stories for my local newspaper and all the other odd things I've done in the last decade, I had come up with something involving writing and architecture. Mom reminded me that we had actually discussed the idea of editing for some periodical, possibly an architectural one.

Now, here, after all these years, suddenly I get a carrot dangled in front of me. What's the possibility that I get to edit, not in the physical architecture world, but in the spiritual architecture world -- building up the Body of Christ? I hope this is it, and I'd trust in Him even if it wasn't, and I'm anxious too -- can I really do it? This isn't the local paper, even with it's millionaire publisher and high-tech press. This is a world-wide, Christian publishing company -- and God very clearly gave me a divine appointment with the man who could get me involved.

Oh, how I hate waiting for a clear answer. Let's see if I'll even be able to focus on writing until I get a response.

Posted in The Christian Life

This last week, as I mentioned yesterday, I attended the Pastor's and Leader's Conference for our church movement for all of the Northwest Region of the United States. Wonderful event, and God spoke to me in so many ways. I wanted to share with you my favorite.

On the drive to Spokane, I was listening to John Loeffler's radio show on CD (you'll find a link to his website on my side bar under Steel on Steel, I believe). He was discussing the problems with the emergent church and seeker church movements, and mentioned yet again the classic work by Francis Schaeffer. I've wanted to read this book for quite a while, but always seem to forget to put it on my shopping list; the man spoke of the direction the church was taking and where it would end up, much of which is coming to pass today.

That afternoon, I saw again a gentleman I met last year by the name of Paul Smith. If you're familiar with Calvary Chapel, he's the brother of the founder of our movement, Chuck Smith. Paul is a sweet, grandpa type, with a shy smile, deep intelligence, and a heart for his Savior. I didn't get to talk to him until the second night, and that's a story in itself. A friend from my church had invited me to stay at her mom's place with her in Hillyard, and made sure to show me how to get there the first night from the Spokane church; this night owl needed to get there on my own, while she went home as soon as we let out to be with her family. After she left, I then decided to go back into the side hall (where all the books, CDs and other info tables were) to look again at a new textbook on apologetics for kids (more on that another day). This particular lady left after half an hour, so I moved on to Paul's table to peek at whatever books he might have available.

The background on him involves the structure of our movement. We are a loose band of churches with the same beliefs and basic format, unlike denominations such as the Assemblies of God, which have a clear church hierarchy and national office. So, for us, the publications, books, and general information department, called Calvary Chapel Outreach Fellowship, serves to link us all together. Hence Paul being present at this conference.

On his table, was a DVD of Francis Schaeffer with the same title as his classic work. I asked the man behind the table if it was just a collection of talks that Schaeffer gave on the subject, or did it actually include the text as well. He didn't know, and called Paul over to give me what info he knew. We ended up in a fascinating discussion of church history, current church movements, and the recently released papers of a scholar named Harold LIndsell. Paul suddenly stops and says, "Here, why don't I give you a copy of a paper I just wrote?" We continued the discussion for a while, then I left to go "home" for the night.

I only read half of the document before really needing sleep, but I was noticing typos and minor corrections that needed to be made -- call it my background doing proofreading, but things like that are very obvious to me. I concluded that he hadn't published it yet, and considered offering him my services in proofreading the next morning first thing. I fell asleep wondering why he had given it to me, and not someone else of greater stature, or at least greater age.

I didn't catch him again until the conference was over the next afternoon. More than 3/4 of the attendees had left already, and I thought I'd just check the side room one more time before leaving myself. As I turned the corner, he was coming right at me on his way out. He confirmed that he had not published it yet, and I asked if he'd like my help in proofreading it. I thought he was going to cry! He simply said, "That's an answer to my prayers!" He gave me his contact info, and we went our separate ways.

If you have been following my writing at all, you know that my heart is to write, and in fact, that seems to be part of the call on my life. The main problem I face is location; I'm a stay-at-home mom in a rural part of Washington, so how do I get to use my talents? I can write for my local paper, teach my local women's Bible study, do a little blogging here and there, but nothing on the kind of scale that I'd love to do. Here I get wrapped up in proofreading for a man involved in the distribution of Christian materials from California! Who knows where this will lead, but I see a bit of light through a doorway that I didn't notice before.

So, paper is proofed. I need to mail it off, and see what happens from there. God's ways are truly mysterious, above my own, and greater than I could ever ask or hope.

Posted in The Christian Life

By now, you should all know how type-A I am, but I'll admit I'm also slightly melancholy as well. Today seems to be one of those days where my two personality-types (notice I did not call them personalities... just to be clear on that point) seem to be clashing.

I go through these phases where the choleric in me goes nuts over what needs to be done and the lack of opportunity/time/resources to do it. Since I can't do too much reading lately, I sit on the couch wrapped in a thick quilt, shivering and pondering all the problem areas in my 80s double wide. My family thinks I'm watching another mystery show, but really I'm looking at how the set-designers have solved any number of horrible design issues. Who cares if they're just props? They could still offer some mystical insights into how to fix my place.

So then the melancholy side kicks in and I set to documenting all these apparent design fauz pas in some list or another, while my mind runs over all the bills that need paying. When I see the impossibility of it all, then the depression sets in. I've only come to acknowledge that's what it is in the last couple of years. It's not the debilitating kind of depression that would require meds, but it's definitely not fun. It ususally takes severe distraction or a rousing game of suction-cup darts with my husband to get me turned around.

This time around it relates to my ability to lead the women in my church. I recently had a major disagreement with my pastor's wife; we're all good now, but it brought up other issues. I've said all along (two years now) that leading your pastor's wife is intimidating, and even more so when she's one of your best friends and you're the age of her oldest child. Now I can easily let the choleric in me come out, and simply take charge of my role and do it. But the melancholy in me says that I want to be friends with everyone, and we should all get along just famously. The choleric argues back that we don't all have to be friends, that even in blood families there are people who simply don't like each other, and just get on with things. Sounds like the personalities have taken on lives of their own, but it's just me trying to sort out what to do.

So this has been going on now for about four days, and I keep going back to the idea that God put me in this role, the pastor and his wife both agree that's the way it should be, and that God has actually been using me in the lives of the women. But there's always that little voice in the back that says life would be much easier if I never took another leadership role in my life. (I did tell someone recently that it would be much easier to lead the men. I'm much more comfortable in that world. Women are too difficult.)

Today I sat down to read some Scripture ... on my enlarged screen, using eSword because my Bibles are all small-print. Looking for where I should land, I found Titus. In the first chapter, it begins talking about the qualifications of a bishop. Now, I'm not saying I'm a bishop by any means, but when it comes to leading anything -- including a bunch of cackling hens -- this a good description of what's necessary. Funny thing is, my dd is memorizing her books of the Bible and keeps asking what Titus is all about; think God has been preparing me for this for a couple of weeks?

Then I go to a friend's blog. She lives several states away (I've never met her in person) and I thought I'd check out her church. There I end up reading the same passage under the heading of church structure; then again I found Titus under the women's ministry description. By now I'm saying, OK Lord, I'm listening.

Don't know what I'm learning yet, but I'm listening. Maybe I'll get it today.

Posted in The Christian Life

First of all, let me say that my intentions to write daily are far overreaching; I do need days off and I do need to schedule around the other computer users and responsibilities in my home. The biggest problem, though, is my ability to see. Today is particularly difficult. If it wasn't for the feeling that I need to get started somewhere, I'd give up today too.

After posting on Friday, I managed to be able to read "My Utmost for His Highest," again with glasses and magnifying glasses both. (My dd says I look like an old-fashioned teacher -- I still don't think she gets the concept that I am all that. Hmm.) For those of you who read this daily too, you'll know that Mr. Chambers was speaking from Luke 23:26, a passage that has broken my heart since I was young. Part of that emotion has to do with a song that came out a couple of decades ago, called "Watch the Lamb." I can't remember the name of the guy that sang it, but he was known for his story songs, like "Thank You."

The Scriptural passage refers to the poor man who was pulled from the crowd to help Jesus carry His cross. That thought in itself is hard to take. You're there to see the spectacle, or to mourn for your favorite, falsely-accused rabbi, and you suddenly get yanked from the crowd and forced to carry this ghastly wooden torture instrument. If he truly knew who Jesus was, it would have been a very sad honor. If he didn't, it would have been humiliating and infuriatine. Either way, it was not in his itinerary.

The song brings up another possible scenario: maybe he was there solely for the Passover sacrifices, and his children were left at the side of the road watching both their family sacrifice -- the lamb-- and their father assisting the Lamb. Wow. Can you imagine? I'd be torn with fear, anger, worry, frustration ...

This is where Mr. Chambers takes his cue. Is obedience ever convenient? Sometimes, and sometimes it even benefits everyone around you. Sometimes, though, it's not a pleasant scenario, and it may even seem a horrible thing to others. This poor man didn't have a choice, the soldiers didn't ask if he needed a moment to weigh the options, Jesus didn't call him out the day before to have him prepare for the event. He was simply told to obey, and he did. I gripe all the time about not knowing what to do, or why I have to do one thing or another.

This whole thing with my job was so heartbreaking to me because I loved it! It was in my field of study, I liked my co-workers, my boss was great about my scheduling issues and about my daughter coming to work with me, it was close to home (1 1/2 miles!), and we were able to not worry so much about money. One of the main reasons I didn't want to quit, though, was because my boss was so good to me. He spent months training me. He understood when I needed time at home for homeschooling or health reasons. He let my dd come in for four hours a day, and told clients that he was "training them early!" I really struggled with ditching him after all that, but this is where God had been dealing with me.

I tend to worry about my reputation, mostly because so many people have tried to destroy it. I don't want to be seen as a flaky employee, and unfortunately I've allowed my resume to begin to look that way. I've always felt that I can't be a good witness for my Savior if I'm not well-liked and respected by those around me. But God keeps reminding me that I can't focus on that. I am told to obey, and I am told that the world will hate me because of Him. In all honesty, that doesn't necessarily mean only for my faith. It means, too, that when God says "I want you at home, writing" that I'm going to disappoint my new boss, I'm going to leave my office manager without the assistance he's come to expect, that my finances are going to suffer and my mother is going to worry, that all the society ladies that congratulated me on such an excellent position and "welcome to the working world" are going to think of me as one of those backward, old-fashioned hicks.

And I can't worry about it. That's the tough part. Each of us has our own part to do in hearing God's voice. The man on the Via Dolorosa had his own part to play, and God placed him there to do it; he would have ended up with his own encounter with God's plan for his life and his own opportunity to choose God's will or his own. None of us exist in a vacuum, and none of us get through life without the influence of those around us. And sometimes that means that my decision may not be convenient for you. Yes, I suffer consequences for that, whether good or bad, but at some point, God uses that influence on you to bring you an opportunity to choose His will as well. I'd rather suffer His consequences than the world's best offerings without Him.

The trade-off for me here is that I have God's peace now. I'm more relaxed, my family is more relaxed, my home is cleaner. My boss was understanding, and told me I can come back anytime. We are all still on good terms at the office, and they had hired a new drafter before I quit. My daughter is getting the training and Mom-time she needs as she approaches that pre-teen stage. And I am happy -- not that successful, accomplished, "I'm doing my part in society" happy, but that "I'm in God's hands, and He loves me and knows what's best for me" happy. Where else would I want to be?

How inconvenient.

Posted in The Christian Life

Hi to the few of you who still check to see if I'm out in the blogoshpere somewhere.

I have decided to return to writing. No, it's not a New Year's resolution; I'm keenly aware that those never work. Actually, it has more to do with obedience than anything.

When I took that wonderful job at the surveyor's office last April, it was one of those times that I did what I thought I should without a clear understanding of God's guidance. As you may or may not have noticed, I really struggled with how such a great job could so destroy a home life. I soon broke an ankle, then my hubby went through two surgeries, my dd had another, and finally I've had a hemorrhage in my good eye. That doesn't include the frustration in homeschooling, character training, housework, ministry, and our generally non-existent social life.

(Let me just say that, at the moment, my computer settings are on the largest possible and I'm still having trouble reading what I'm typing. Please forgive any typos I can't see.)

So, after a very difficult day with my dd, I was (attempting to -- with glasses and a magnifying glass both) read a couple of parenting books. One in particular was about the stress in women's lives, and I was in the section that addressed careers. With only a touch of sarcasm, I asked myself "what career?" I tell you, God's voice has never been clearer! He simply said, "I told you to write." OK. No argument there -- that was years ago and I've been looking for that one opportunity to have a readership that I can influence.

Duh.

I have an incredible friend at the paper who appreciates my writing, and offers me every opportunity he can to do so. Joel, I'm so sorry I've taken that for granted. Will you take me back? To be honest, writing the cancer stories every year has been one of the greatest joys in my life. These people have the opportunity to share their experiences with others -- survivor, patient or otherwise. What greater role can I have?

I also have the women's Bible study through my church. Sure, it's taken us over a year to get 2 1/2 chapters into Philippians, but we're focusing on doctrine and how it applies to our lives at a very personal level. I've seen women grow in ways and at rates that I never imagined. This is the kind of influence I've dreamed of, that I can help others grow in their relationship with their Savior. What am I griping about?

Then there's this blog. I may have killed off any interest in what I'm writing by my inconsistency, but it should be my daily motivator to put "pen to paper," so to speak. No one needs to read what I write; God simply told me to write, not to find people who want to read. If I obey, He'll give me the ministry form He wants me to take, and I'll be satistied with it.

My goodness, sounds like the same thing I've been telling my dd. Funny how God does that.
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So, please, if you're still reading this, hold me accountable. Email me if you don't see me writing. Those of you a little closer to home, call me even. And please remind me not to take anymore full-time jobs until after dd graduates and moves on.

Thanks for sticking with me. Talk to you tomorrow.

Posted in The Christian Life

If you haven't noticed, my last few posts (few and far between, I know) haven't been highly positive. To be honest, my life sucks at the moment. But I'm beginning to understand why.

Somehow, even after the diabetes and its side-effects, after the constant health issues, after the continual "situations" that I/we seem to end up in, I still hadn't figured out that God is the first one I should talk to. I rely so heavily on the brain He gave me, the training I've received, the family and friends He's blessed me with, always turning to Him last. I try to figure out what I want to pray for, before simply bowing my heart and pouring it out to Him directly.

Paul said it best: "That which I want to do, I don't; that which I don't want to do, I do. I am one wretched man." OK, my paraphrase, but he's right. I know better! And yet, in my flesh, I forget, postpone, procrastinate, refuse.

About a month ago, I was whining to the ladies in my Bible study. One of them put me on the spot. She basically stated that in all the time she's known me, my life has been a mess and maybe I should question whether I'm in God's will. Now, I've questioned that over and over and over again. God never responds that I'm out of His will. Then again, He hasn't been answering that I am, either. I've searched for unconfessed sin, for unforgiveness, for the pride I fight so constantly.

Finally, I started hearing His voice. Oswald Chambers has been featuring this topic for the last couple of weeks in "My Utmost for His Highest." A lady I heard in passing on the Family Life Today radio show spoke of this on Monday. Pastor has made comments about it for several weeks now. Our women's study has involved in-depth conversations on this topic. Friends and family members are experiencing similar situations and I always end up telling them things that I need to tell myself. It seems God is beginning to make Himself clear.

This lady on the radio was discussing how God convinced her to adopt. She was balking, and asked Him why He'd want her to do this. His response, as she said, was that she couldn't call herself a woman of faith if she wasn't living a life that required any faith.

I'm glad I was still in a parking space.

The Bible lesson this week included a quote from a Bible commentator that I really liked. Barnes said, "Many are willing to reign with Christ, but they would not be willing to suffer with Him; many would be willing to wear a crown of glory like Him, but not the crown of thorns; many would be willing to put on the robes of splendor which will be worn in Heaven, but not the scarlet robe of contempt and mockery." And remember that He wasn't persecuted just for claiming He was God, but also for going against the grain, speaking the truth, and for being socially and religiously unacceptable.

How many times in Scripture do we read that, because we are His, we will suffer -- trials, persecutions, ridicule, being outcast from society. Even general bad coincidences like broken ankles and metal rulers sticking out of your car's radiator! This is because, as our friend Paul says, we don't fight against human flesh, but against Satan's forces.

Yes, God protects us, and nothing comes our way but what He allows, and never more than we can handle. We forget the story of Job, though. God made Job an example for us. Job reacted the way I've been reacting -- strong for a moment, giving in to frustration and depression, finally losing our faith in God and blaming Him (specifically or not!) for destroying my life. Crying that He's not answering me. Remember the end of the story? Job's life was ten times better after the incident than before, and now he knew who his true friends were!

The example is this: the emotions will be there, but we'll remember the Scriptures that help us to control it ("I will never leave you or forsake you," "what you experience is common to all men," "rejoice in your sufferings and trials"); there is always a purpose (sometimes as an example for those around you or after you, sometimes to help you grow, sometimes to make you slow down and focus on what's important, and yes, sometimes to draw attention to a habit that needs to be dealt with); and God always does it for our own good ("God rebukes those He loves," "spare the rod and spoil the child," "all Scripture is good for rebuke, reproof, correction, instruction, etc.").

The book of Job and the Psalms are the most encouraging reading I've found during times like this. Just putting our minimal importance and influence in perspective beside the God of Creation is humbling. It reminds me of how great He really is, and how much I owe Him simply for creating me and letting me live, let alone loving me and dying for me. It builds my awe for Him, and thus my faith in Him and in His provision.

So, what I'm learning is this: God is my best friend -- more than my hubby, more than my girlfriends, more than the girl that's stuck with me since elementary school. He's the One I need to talk to first, every time, and in every situation -- good or bad. He loves me, and will never abandon me. He has a purpose in all He does, and there is no such thing as coincidence. And, if He was willing to suffer and die for me, why can't I even agree to endure a bad stretch in my life for Him?

I want to be a woman of faith. Thus, I must live a life that produces faith. Therefore, I must suffer. Amen -- so be it, Lord. Bring it on.

Posted in The Christian Life

Now that everyone has quit reading my blog out of boredom, I've been feeling a real push to write again.

But I'm also the busiest I've ever been in my life. Last week, while my husband was out of town again for a whole week (sub driver routes for a familiar potato chip brand), I only spent six hours total -- other than sleep and preparing to leave for the day -- in my home. I won't go into all the stuff going on, but suffice it to say we are constantly on the go and not because we want to be.

So, I'm spending a lot of time listening to the radio, grabbing an article here and there, and trying to sneak in at least an Oswald Chambers snippet before bed. Even our women's Bible study isn't progressing fast -- we've been on Philippians 3:9 for two months now!

Through all that, I'm learning that Bible memory is a great asset. When I'm facing three deadlines in the next hour, pulling out my Bible is not a good idea. I love reading it, but there are times when the greater witness is to abide by my word to have something done on time! So, as long as my mind isn't engrossed in area computations or finding the angle of the return on a culdesac, I can go over verses in my mind and God can still speak to me.

My mother encouraged us to memorize verses when we were young, and then we had Missionettes (Assemblies of God version of AWANA or spiritual Girl Scouts). Some of those I can still say; then again, some of them I can't! Later, though, I came across a group here in the area (through an aunt from Idaho, no less) called Living Epistles that focuses solely on Scripture memorization. We only went for about six months (unfortunately, they really weren't supportive of having our child around), but the experience has stuck with me for several years now.

During the week, each person would work on memorizing a passage of Scripture of their own choice, sometimes a verse, sometimes a chapter or more. At the next meeting, after worship and prayer, each person would have an opportunity to quote their passage from memory or with help. We kept each other accountable to keep working, and sometimes the correlations between different passages on one night clearly spoke to those in attendance. Or maybe there would be a series of consecutive chapters from the same book. Or the same chapter from different versions. Often a verse chosen by one person would minister to someone else in the room.

A woman told me once that she just couldn't memorize anything, so why even try. I wish I had the answer then that I do now. "Because God said to!" He didn't say it was only for those with good memories or high IQs. Did you know that even Alzheimer's and dementia patients can remember verses, especially if they're put to music? How then do we have any excuse for not memorizing the words of our Lord?

I'm not saying this is a works thing, or that you can't be a Christian without this; I am saying, however, that our witness is more efficient and effective when we put His words in our memories and then allow Him to bring out that one that we need to speak to that one person (who is sometimes even ourself!) who needs to hear that one verse at that very moment.

One of my tactics for memorizing was to write out the passage on one or more 4x6 notecards, and then carry it in my purse or bag or car. Every time I had the chance, I'd say what I had already learned, add another verse or two, then repeat the whole thing to that point several times. As my little one has grown older, I use the same method with her, turning it into her penmanship lesson while she memorizes it for AWANA. She uses all her senses this way and is less likely to forget it, just like me!

Let's look at some verses that talk about memorization of Scripture. In the Old Testament, of course, it was the law they memorized. While we do live under the law of grace now, these truths and precepts are still sound doctrine (the ten commandments are a good example). Proverbs 3:1-3 says "My son, forget not my law; but let thine heart keep my commandments... write them upon the table of thine heart." Deuteronomy 6 is fairly well-known by homeschoolers; it's the one about teaching them of God at every hour and every opportunity throughout the day. Psalm 119:11 is familiar to most children; it's David's declaration that the memorization of God's Word is what helped him not to sin -- "Thy word have I hid in my heart that I might not sin against Thee." He says this a few other ways in verses 105 and 129-130. Joel 1:1-3 says to tell our children and let them tell their children of the things God has done in our lives; they have to memorize these things (and their Scriptural foundations) in order to be able to do so.

If you notice, most of these passages and the many others sprinkled all throughout the Bible also include a blessing for doing so, whether that's peace and joy or accountability or just "goooood" (Micah 2:7). One of my favorites says this: "For as the rain comes down, and the snow from heaven, and returns not  again, but waters the earth and makes it to bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower and bread to the eater; so shall My Word be that goes out of My mouth: it shall not return unto Me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it." How beautiful! God can use my mouth to speak His Words and thus bring life!! -- if I have it in my heart, of course.

We see other passages in the New Testament about the continuing importance of Scripture memorization. The writer of Hebrews, speaking on Jesus' once-only, all-encompassing sacrifice and victory on our behalf, quotes Jeremiah's prophecy of the Messiah: "This is the covenant that I will make with them after those days, says the Lord, I will put my laws into their hearts, and in their minds will I write them" (Hebrews 10:16) John, in chapter 17, verses 14-17, quotes Jesus' treatise on the heart of the gospel and His prayer to the Father for our sakel; the essence of these four verses here is that knowing His Word will protect us and guide us as we navigate a fallen and misleading world.

One last note ... Amos 8:11-12 says this: "Behold, the days come, says the Lord GOD, that I will send a famine in the land, not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the LORD: and they shall wander from sea to sea, and from the north even to the east, they shall run to and fro to seek the word of the LORD, and shall not find it." Verses 11-14 of that passage have not been fulfilled yet, and I dont' know if we will experience this for ourselves (I'm pretty confident that we will, though), but what if it does? Do we know the Word well enough to trust our memories if and when that time comes? I want to suck up as much as I can so I don't dehydrate from lack of living water!

I encourage you to take your favorite passage, and memorize it word for word. Share it with your children, make up a tune to go with it and sing it in the car and the shower, quote it back to the Lord as a prayer or praise. And then consider joining with a friend or two to encourage each other to do the same. God said His Word would never return void, so every moment spent devouring those precious Words are worthwhile in Kingdom currency!

Posted in The Christian Life

I have long had problems with the extreme nature of the argument behind our obsession with self in the face of the Biblical demand to sacrifice ourselves.

On the one hand, we are all surrounded by a culture that believes life is at its ultimate when we indulge in every whim of our flaky little brains. How dare we go out in public without makeup or eight pounds of hair products! WalMart clothes aren't good enough (I'm addressing style here -- I know quality is always an issue with this store) for our trip to the grocery store, though our children are dressed in jeans with holes in the knees and ketchup dribbles down the front of their shirts. Even I get wrapped up in the "have-to-grab-a-latte" mindset, as if I can't get through two hours of errands without 32-ounces of caffeine and sugar.

Commercials are full of women showing us our need for wrinkle removers and painful hair removal techniques, the newest scientific breakthroughs in moisturizer and even the oldest remedies for any beauty ailment we believe we might eventually contract. Hotels and travel agents tell us we need to take time for ourselves, a vacation from the hardships of life -- bask in the sun by a serene pool in an expensive, skimpy swimsuit, and basically forget we have kids and husbands. "You deserve a break today" -- wasn't that McD's?

On the other hand, the Bible tells us that all we deserve is death. That, as gratitude for saving us from that death, we are to sacrifice our very lives to Christ's service and ministry (Romans 12:1). We are taught to think of others more highly than ourselves (Romans 12:3), to give twice what is taken from us (Luke 6:29), and to give our lives for our friends (John 15:13).

In our drive to obey our Lord (or sometimes to try to bribe Him into letting us get away with something), we take it to an extreme. We run ourselves into the ground trying to be not only supermom, the ultimate homeschooler, and the most alluring wife on the planet for our dear hubbies, but also trying to teach Sunday School, sing on the worship team, visit sick church members, organize the women's social this month, produce the Christmas drama, and design the addition to the new Christian school. We volunteer at the soup kitchens, lead the neighborhood Bible study, donate to every mission or ministry under the sun, and write witty blogs just before dropping wearily into bed at night.

Who do we think we are?

While the above verses are true and to be obeyed, we need to remember to take the entire Word together. Let me explain. If we take the verse that says we are allowed to eat anything (as opposed to avoiding pork, shellfish, meat offered to idols, strong drink, raccoons and armadillo) in Acts 10, we end up going to extreme, like when we go off a diet and splurge beyond any reasonable imagination. Gluttony takes over, along with a sense of pride ("God told me I could have anything, so don't tell me I can't") and illness as well (just because you can eat roadkill doesn't mean it's good for you).

Likewise, when we discover we are to involved in service and ministry, we tend to grab everything that comes our way (I tend to see most homeschoolers as that 20% that does 80% of the work). Yes, sometimes our hearts are right -- we may have a talent or experience in that area and see the need there. Sometimes, though, we do it out of guilt ("I'm not doing enough, so I must not be living right") or obligation ("There's no one else to do it and I think I have the time"). Whatever the reason is, we begin to add more and more to our schedules, leaving less and less time for our families and daily responsibilities at home. We go to gluttony of activity, forgetting that not all opportunities offered us are God's will for us. We then head into pride; "Look at everything I do for the church -- how can they do that to me?" or "I can't take that weekend getaway with my hubby -- what would they do without me?"

Finally, we end up sick. We don't take the time to eat properly and care for our physical bodies. We end up with worn-out immune systems, catching every cold and virus that knocks on our door. We are mentally and emotionally depleted, leaving nothing of value for our families and friends. Spiritually, we are depleted too. We've all heard the saying, "too busy doing the Lord's work to spend time with the Lord." We keep asking Him to take away the stress and give us peace, but we won't listen when He says to drop something from our schedule.

Diabetes makes me see this lesson so clearly. If I get wrapped up in selfishness, I begin to have pity on myself and "take a vacation" from controlling my disease. This isn't healthy. Neither is the opposite, though. If I spend all my time, money, effort and mental capacity on everyone and everything but me, I literally forget to take shots and eat right. Stress of any kind sends my blood sugar into the stratosphere, as does exhaustion, illness and lack of rest. Even if I could remember to care for myself, I wouldn't be able to do it effectively.

Listening to Bible teachers tell us to be completely selfless, and that God wants us to be this way, simply sends my blood pressure as high as my blood sugar! Taking the Bible as a whole, we find that this extreme view must be tempered. Scripture says we are to "love your neighbor as yourself" (Lev 19:18, Matt 22:39, Rom 13:8-9, Gal 5:14, Eph 5:2); you can't do that if you don't love yourself -- basic logic. It also says that anyone who doesn't care for his family is an infidel (I Tim 5:8); Strong's Concordance defines the Greek word there as "disbelieving, without Christian faith, a heathen." Even Proverbs 31, which is always used to tell us that we women are to be industrious as well as domestic, keeps returning to her duties to her family and how blessed they are by what she does. If she isn't spending time with them because she's out saving the world (though this may be literally), she is actually acting like a non-believer!

Shocking, isn't it? I never saw it in that light either.

So maybe the question isn't between selflessness and selfishness; maybe it's more a matter of gluttony and of the motives of our hearts. Proverbs 21:3 says that justice and judgement (in other words, doing the right thing) is better than sacrifice. I see this verse a little differently these days; I can give myself to the Lord's service, but that doesn't mean I can avoid taking time for both my family and myself.

A good cup of coffee on a rainy day always makes me think of how incredible God is, and I begin to praise Him. For my daughter, a long drive in the desert sagebrush always turns her heart to Him. What makes you slow down and worship Him? What about your children? That act of justice -- that right thing -- is better than all the ministry we could -- and couldn't -- handle. It's not selfish; it's selflessness at its best.

Posted in The Christian Life

I've been reading my latest issue of TOS, drinking it all in as usual. As I've always said -- and as I've been quoted, I see -- it always comes at just the right time. Just at the moment I'm questioning how to jump-start our studies, my favorite magazine shows up with the answers I've been praying for.

So far, Deborah Wuehler's article on rebels has made the biggest impression on me.

My daughter is a rebel. In her short six years, I have been left multiple times in a heap on the floor, crying and screaming, pleading with God for direction. Now I know what my mother felt, because I'm a rebel too. So was my mother, and my grandmother, and my great-grandmother before us. Call it a generational curse if you like; even my sisters are known to have this rebellious streak.

I call it the Jezebel spirit (I do believe it's "hereditary" in a spiritual sense), and we've all discovered at some point (I think we have anyway) that it must be reigned in before it causes severe destruction. That point came in my life when I decided I'd had enough of family members ignoring each other to avoid addressing a disagreement between them; I lost it one night at a party at my home, bluntly calling them to terms with obvious frustration. Our families didn't speak to each other for weeks. My grandmother was visiting with me for the week, and I remember crying to her that I wanted to be sick. I knew I had said and done things that night that could never be taken back.

We've all seemingly gotten over it (that's another "I think we have," of course), but it began in me a long lesson in appropriateness, compassion, understanding, wisdom and love. Oh yeah, and forgiveness. I'm learning more and more all the time, and thankfully God is allowing me to learn in private more often these days.

This does not mean, though, that the rebellious nature is gone. While there is more wisdom under my belt now, I still have a strong sense of justice and tend to pick up causes now and then (like our battle over permits with the local health department). I still don't like to be told I'm wrong, though I am more willing to give in when it's true.

A few years ago, God led me to Ezekiel 3:8-9:

"Behold, I have made your face strong against their faces, and your forehead strong against their foreheads; As an adamant harder than flint have I made your forehead; fear them not, neither be dismayed at their looks, though they be a rebellious house."

I laughed instantly! Everyone always said I was hard-headed! My mother thanked God for finally explaining me to her after all these years! But there was a lesson in that. I'm not a black sheep, the family troublemaker (my sisters don't get off the hook that easily!), the hot-head, the instigator of arguments -- I'm God's creation! Yes, I had (and still have) lessons to learn, but my Creator gave me this personality/style/"temper"-ament for a reason.

As Deborah mentions of rebels, I love to argue. This is wonderful when I need to tell community leaders that their policies are destroying small market vendors, but it's destructive when my dh and I need to reconcile. Now that God has used Deborah to bring this to my attention, I'm already seeing that I really can just let it go and not "win" the confrontation.

Have you read Gena Suarez' blog? Her phrase (and the title of her blog, too) is "bring them home" -- she says it in every comment, every note. Mine should be, "God enrolls you in continuing education by giving you children." As I raise this not-so-little-anymore girl, I see myself ... the problems my mother claims to have had with me as a kid, the emotional struggles that plague big kids stuck in little-kid bodies, the spiritual lessons that I still face which she is beginning to tackle, the failings that I still haven't mastered. How am I supposed to help her when I don't even have it all fixed myself?

Only through Christ, I know. And she'll learn to control herself, just as I'm learning. That strong, flint-hard nature will only come forth when God calls it forth -- His rebel for His glory. I guess that's my new prayer. Thanks, Deborah.

Posted in The Christian Life

I hate housekeeping. I love being home and redesigning everything once in a while, even organizing. But I just can't seem to get into doing the laundry and dishes, cleaning rooms, dusting, watering the plants, blah, blah, blah.

Laundry is the worst. Putting it in the washer is fine. Hanging it on the line is fine (my dryer is only for lint-laden items and emergency needs). It's the folding and putting away that gets me. It's always the last on my list, and I will literally go weeks without putting any of it away. It's awful.

I've tried setting up a schedule. I've tried a "routine." I've tried the index card file. I use the list system unsuccessfully but consistently at least; it fails because I tend to lose the list. At the moment, I'm failing at the chore chart idea. Nothing seems to work for more than three days at a time. It's so depressing.

The other day, while in my typical housekeeping funk, the Lord showed me Proverbs 3:33. "The curse of the LORD is in the house of the wicked: but He blessedth the habitation of the just." Do you understand how much of a relief this was to me?! God will help me with the housework! He blesses my house, not just by providing for us and guiding us as we progress on our journey with Him, but also by giving me the endurance, strength and motivation to do my chores!

I now have this verse posted on my fridge, where I see it every morning. This has done more for me than any other organizational structure I can impose on myself. All I have to do is tell Him I need His help! He can remind me of how my husband will feel walking into a clean house, He can prompt me to turn on praise songs or my favorite Bible teacher, He can prompt my little one to want to learn to "do what Mommy is doing;" whatever it is, He knows what I need and will help me do what He's called me to do! (For more on that, see Handmaiden's post today.)

I can't help it -- I love Him! I not only have a dh who does housework; I have a God who does housework!

Posted in The Christian Life

Javamamma posted this incredible analogy the other day. It is well-worth reading, but grab your box of Kleenex first. Trust me in this one.

Posted in The Christian Life

I'm sure some of you won't agree with me, but this is one of those times I could care less.

I refuse to celebrate Easter. I will celebrate spring, warmer weather, the longer days, and most importantly Resurrection Day, but not Easter. I will not succumb to the blatant commercialization of a pagan holiday -- no matter how "Christianized" it's become over the centuries. And I will not allow cries of "we've always done it this way," "there's no harm in an egg hunt," and "but you're depriving her of all the childhood fun" to make me compromise my beliefs.

It all started in my childhood when our family chose to forego Halloween. We were disturbed by the images of ghosts and witches, knowing that God cannot approve of portraying them for fun. When my parents (and later, I too) began studying the origins of the holiday, we were appalled that no one in our churches had ever told us these stories, that instead they promoted harvest parties where the same things were condoned.

We abandoned all Halloween activities. No carved pumpkins, no candy at the door, no TV sometimes because of the heavy commercialization. Our focus was on my younger sister, whose birthday is October 31. We turned off the front porch light, and retreated to the back of the house for cake and ice cream. And we never felt we missed out.

Later, when my hubby and I were starting out in our marriage, we made the decision to quit Christmas too and for many of the same reasons. This time, though, instead of being supported by our families, they accused us of legalism and implied we were blaspheming Jesus.

We saw that most of the traditions we promote in our homes and even churches come from very pagan practices, later Christianized by early popes so that all of society would be included in traditional holidays. We were sickened to walk into churches filled with people praising God, but up front was a Christmas tree -- a rite popular in the sexual worship of ancient gods. In their homes, people would sing songs of the holiness of Jesus' birth around the yule log in the fireplace -- a symbol of the resurrection of Tammuz, another ancient god. And virtually everyone is engaged in the little white lies of Santa and his reindeer.

Instead we turn to Hannukah, which is admittedly a tradition whose origins have been blown out of proportions, but one which Jesus himself practiced. Here the focus of our family is on His provision for us in time of need, and His faithfulness to us.We celebrate Jesus' birthday in September, one of the two suggested times of His true birth. We don't miss out on anything, and we skip all the hype and insanity.

So then we came to Easter a few years ago. Again, we found pagan origins for this holiday: rabbits and eggs were symbols of fertility in the worship of Ishtar (this is where the term Easter comes from) and others, and often involved sexual practices. In looking at the timing of this event, it correlates to the spring equinox and number of full moons past that date -- typically following the emergence of grass and flowers in the spring.

In contrast, the day Jesus came back to life was the first Sunday after the beginning of Passover. It was tied to this Jewish holiday by the very Last Supper we celebrate at least monthly in our churches, called Communion. In a way, I'm disappointed that Easter and Resurrection Day fall on the same day this year (unlike last year), because it makes it harder to take a stand.

I cringe when my daughter walks out of Sunday School with Easter eggs and chocolate rabbits. Somewhere tucked into her bundle of goodies is a cross, but it's not as important in her mind as the candy and goodies. The important thing here is that our Savior came back to life!!! What do rabbits and eggs have to do with that?

Instead, we eat some of the foods from the Passover because we have no one else to share a full meal with. This year, my in-laws will do a matzoh search instead of an egg-hunt, but only after acknowledging that neither my husband or his sister wanted the kids looking for eggs in the rain. My parents, on the other hand, were offended that I didn't want my child making a paper-mache egg with a cross inside.

I realize this is one of those areas where we have taken a controversial stance. The disappointment we face is that the very people who are supposed to be shedding the world and becoming more like Jesus are willing to compromise when it comes to celebrating Him. And that they expect us to do the same, despite our firmly-held beliefs.

Please, folks. Take a look at what you believe about Jesus, His birth, His resurrection, His instructions to you. Then look at how you celebrate "Christian" holidays. Are you giving your kids an accurate depiction of Him? If you will still celebrate in the traditional ways, are you making clear the real story, the things we're supposed to be celebrating? Are you forcing the people around you to follow your practices despite their reservations?

Remember, I won't hate you for disagreeing with me, but I would ask that you consider this. And to pray about your response, not necessarily to me but to your family.

Posted in The Christian Life

This sin has come to the forefront of my awareness lately.

I don't remember ever really being involved in this; it's just not part of my nature. I suppose, though, there are those instances where I can come very close to crossing the line.

This last weekend, I saw how destructive and dangerous it can be. Our church had a women's retreat with three other churches from our denomination. It had been a wonderful day when my pastor's wife left with a very cryptic message to me that it was "personal."

I love this woman; she is probably one of my best friends. That may have been my problem; she's so much like me that I began to assume she had overreacted to an imagined offense, or that she was too angry to address the offender. I had to tell the newer Christians that we had to hold her up, that her immaturity in the faith may be the reason (there are other, longer explanations for that assumption relating to who she left with and when), and that we needed to support her, gather around her, and love her -- not abandon her.

As a bit of background, she has only been a Christian for a few years, and she also pretty much left me "in charge." Thus, thinking my friend had confided in me, these women were legitimately coming to me to ask if they were the one that offended her. Based on the information that was given to me, and also on some lies from the offending parties (unknown to me at the time), and without having the opportunity to address my friend about the event, I tried to dissolve their worries and hold the ladies together, but also limit any gossipping about the event. I guess I didn't do a good job as the gossip continued with certain parties over the rest of the weekend.

I watched this week as people I considered the bastions of our "family" are being asked to leave over vicious and enduring (a year and a half?) gossip and condemnation of our pastor and his wife. Our church maxes out at 30 people; everyone will be affected in some way. Others, who may or may not leave, are abandoning ministries.

I spent several hours with my pastor and his wife, at first with the intention of gently rebuking her. Instead, I needed to repent. She said I did exactly what she expected of me, and that I did the right thing. But I still feel like I should have trusted her and God more, and that maybe I could have found a better way to encourage the ladies who were so close to joining the opposition when all they could see was abandonment.

I apologized to my friend today that she had to explain it all to me, that I didn't trust her. Graciously, she said that I needed to trust her decision to tell me more of the details, that I hadn't done anything wrong, that she knew I would handle the fallout and that God had placed me there to do so. I'm still bothered by it, but maybe she's right. Then again, maybe not and God will have to show me how to deal with my response.

I guess I'm much more sensitive now to what a fine line it is between gossip and rebuke, and between gossip and encouragement. I'm also keenly aware of how much sweeter love and understanding would have made the initial circumstances. If forgiveness, patience and support could have been offered to my pastor, none of this would have happened. Why do we tend to forget that part, even when everything else seems to be going so well?

I know there are some serious discussions going on in our little corner of the blogosphere right now. I guess I just want to say, remember that we are to love each other NO MATTER WHAT. He didn't tell us to love each other if we agree with each other, or if we understand each other, or if we like each other -- He just said that we would be known by our love for one another.

Try to understand how a person came to an opinion, and let that dictate how you address them. Understand that in time, opinions may change and a friend may be retained because of your patience with them. Support them, maybe not financially, but in the sense that no one deserves to be abandoned -- "gently rebuke" them in love. They don't define who you are, but your response to them defines Whose you are.

Posted in The Christian Life

Last night, I had the opportunity to go to dinner with my two closest friends. Both are homeschool moms of four; our girls are all roughly the same age. We, too, are all roughly the same age. We met at MOPS, and instantly hit it off.

One of the "girls" just finished massage therapy school, and, while the other two of us also had difficult years, we were celebrating having her back. It had literally been over a year since the three of us were in the same room together. What a joy to have that camaraderie again.

I keep thinking back to when I didn't have a close friend, and I was struggling with a difficult child. Our families were half an hour away, we had left a local church because of serious issues so had lost that connection, dh had started a new job with few familiar faces, and I was suddenly alone. I prayed so often for a good friend with a child my dd's age.

A few weeks later, a family moved in next door with a daughter only three months older than mine. We began to exchange babysitting and playdates, and I stopped praying. I should have known better; while I like the family, they are not Christians and do not agree with homeschooling. I still didn't have the real friend I so desperately longed for.

In the meantime, I had been taking my very active little one to Burger King in the evenings to burn off some energy in the tubes. One night we met another couple with another girl my dd's age, and she invited me to MOPS -- though in a town half an hour in the opposite direction from my parents. I'm still very fond of this woman, but never really had a close friendship.

Instead, my friend who is now in massage was sitting at the table where I was assigned at MOPS. There was an instant bond, and a year later, she introduced me to the other friend because of mutual interest in natural medicine and food. So two years after praying for a friend, I instead found two.

How easy it is to accept a lesser substitute for the real blessing God has intended. Not that I regret or don't appreciate the other friendships and acquaintences along the way; they are just as important for different reasons. I see, though, where I gave up on praying because I thought my prayers had been answered. I forgot that, as a Christian, my truest friendships are with other Christians, because the love of Christ is the deepest bond on earth, sometimes even greater than that of family. As a homeschooler, my deepest friendships are with other homeschoolers -- not because we want to be isolated from non-homeschoolers, but because we understand each other at a level that can't be matched elsewhere.

That's why I love this little corner of the blogosphere. A couple of my "friends" here have become people I trust and admire and with whom I can sympathize, despite never having spoken to them in person. I see how God is again answering my prayers, giving me the opportunity to write to my heart's content and meeting even more Christian homeschoolers with whom I can "socialize."

I don't assume that I can predict when God has something "better" out there for me. I realize that His ways are higher and more wise than mine. Maybe the lesson here is in remembering that His desire is to bless me beyond what I think is possible. He wants me to know I am loved, and then to love others with that same love.

After last night, I feel that love.  I feel blessed and comforted. I know that God in His infinite wisdom is refreshing me and giving me hope so I can continue on the journey.

Posted in The Christian Life

Several years ago, I wrote an editorial while I was working for the local paper to support the vote to remove Clinton from office. In that article, I stated that I would never have to apologize to my (then-future) children for not making my voice heard in political circles when it came to issues of morality and righteousness.

This is one of those moments.

Lower courts in the US have overturned the 2003 ban on partial-birth abortion, and the Supreme Court (now with a religious man at the helm) has agreed to hear the case. The American Center for Law and Justice (a Conservative, Christian legal group) is submitting a legal brief before our highest court, and is asking each of us to sign their petition. Being a "commoner" in the eyes of the law, this is the closest I will ever come to influencing a legal case before a judge -- and this one is by far one of the most important cases with which to become involved.

Please, take a moment to follow this link and sign this petition to prove the ban on partial-birth abortion constitutional once and for all. If you don't know anything about this procedure, read this article and then look up some of the terms included. The only way to describe this procedure is infanticide, and it is never necessary for the mother's health -- in fact, it requires a forced breach birth, the most hazardous of all births for both the mother and the child.

Consider the birth of your own child. You knew that little one could feel and hear months before birth. Now think of the children just like yours who are being murdered before ever having the opportunity to make their voices heard. Please sign this petition and make your voice heard before our Supreme Court.

Then, pray.