"Amma" -- Homeschooling Grandma | |
Robinson Curriculum
8:15 AM, Oct. 4, 2006
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Starting Back to School
-- This is my third year of homeschooling my grandchildren, who are now
11, 7 and 5. After a long summer hiatus, we started back just
after Labor Day (I am a traditionalist in some ways). We use the
Robinson Curriculum enhanced with other materials, and I was beginning
to get stressed regarding all I was trying to add in order to placate
concerns of others not supportive of our homeschooling in the first
place (e.g. the non-custodial father of one of my
granddaughters). Then I took another look at the guidelines
for using the Robinson Curriculum and was reminded that it is meant to be so streamlined: reading, writing, and 'rithmetic, and that's it! and
that -- along with the self-guided feature of it, is why I chose it in
the first place for homeschooling my youngest son (now 21). So,
we have gotten back to the basics of the Robinson Curriculum, which
includes my guiding the grandchildren more and more toward
self-directed learning, as Dr. Robinson recommends and as the Robinson
Curriculum is intended to promote. Reading -- My daughter had the children enrolled in a summer reading program at our local library, so they are doing even better in reading now than when we ended school last year. Math, is a bit of another matter, but we are getting back up to snuff there too. Obviously, we have not observed the Robinson recommendation that school be six days a week, twelve months a year, but I plan to go in that direction from now on. The oldest -- who recently gave up all video games on his own, much to my delight -- has become an avid reader, and particularly loves the Rover Boys books that are part of the recommended readings in the Robinson Curriculum. The middle one loves reading and is reading well several grades above her age group. The youngest is just learning to read (from Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons, available from Amazon.com for just over $14 now, marked down from the $22 list price; see my review at: Homeschooling Grandma Wishes She Had Found Book Sooner!, scroll down). Yesterday she was very cranky about her lesson (Number 47), and just wanted to "do math." I teased her out of her bad mood, and we completed the lesson, albeit with my helping her more than I am supposed to be doing at this stage. Math -- Math consists of: Saxon Math for the oldest: he is still in 5/4 and has started doing all the lessons himself, as Dr. Robinson recommends. I am encouraging him to get through it as quickly as possible so we can get him into 6/5, which is more where he "should" be by now. With this child, I have had several years of a public school mindset to undo, and that has cost precious time. The middle child, who has never been in public school, loves math, and I have her in American Education Publishing's Total Math, Grade 2, that I bought at Wal-Mart for $9.78. The first part of the book is mostly review and reinforcement of basic concepts for her, so she is breezing through it. I have her do at least two pages a day (front and back), but allow her to do as much as she wants. One day she did ten pages, then wanted to be excused from reading, which of course, I did not allow. For the little one, "doing math," consists of going through an electronic Dora the Explorer numbers and counting book. Back in the old days, when we had television, she was a Dora fan. Writing -- With the Robinson Curriculum, the children are expected to write a one-page essay per day. This is not exactly going like clockwork yet, but we are working on it. Handwriting needs work -- we have the Getty-Dubay books but have not been using them much yet. I really like this method and plan to write more about it in a separate entry. Homeschooling is about options and flexibility. My daughter works nights now, and is just getting home in the morning when her children (my grandchildren) and I are ready to start the homeschool day (we all live together right now). We have taken down the Scrabble game, dusted it off, and are thoroughly enjoying playing a game of Scrabble with her in the morning when she gets home. We hope to reserve this time for special activities and creating some precious memories, cross-generationally. This is a bit of a deviation from the Robinson recommended schedule of doing math first thing in the morning, but it fits where we are as a family right now and feeds our needs. Hallelujah! Need Feedback! (Proposed Umbrella School Name)I am preparing to establish an umbrella school for homeschoolers and need to test the proposed name: Breach of Waters Christian School The scripture reference is 2 Sam. 5:20, which includes, "...The LORD hath broken forth upon mine enemies before me, as the breach of waters..." 1. What is your initial reaction to the name? (e.g. positive, mostly positive, neutral, mostly negative, negative). 2. How likely would you be to enroll your child in a school by that name? (e.g. extremely likely, somewhat likely, not sure, somewhat unlikely, extremely unlikely) 3. How would you feel about telling people that your children were enrolled in a school by that name? 4. How would you feel about your child's earning a diploma from a school by that name? Thanks in advance for your feedback. Rainy Day in Florida...This morning I slept in until after 7 a.m. (I normally get up much earlier). There is a soft rain falling. "This would be such a good day to sleep in!" my 25-year-old son said as he prepared to leave for his construction job. As he left he bid me goodbye and told me to enjoy the rainy day. He does drywall work on the insides of new homes and I know that he likes to work when it is raining. We have had such a dry spell here. It just seems strange to me that Florida, which is practically surrounded by water on all sides and is flowing with springs and rivers and lakes on the interior, can ever even have a drought. I have recently transplanted some crape myrtle and loquat trees from the shady side of the house where they have survived but have not thrived for many years, to the sunny front of the house. I have also been planting confederate jasmine along the fence between our front yard and the neighbor's driveway where they will serve as a decorative and fragrant privacy and dust screen. I have also been attempting to root some bougainvillea, with moderate success. A couple of days ago my sister sent up, by way of my daughter, some hibiscus and jasmine that she had rooted. This rain should help the new transplants to get established. My grandchildren were up pretty late last night, so I will probably want to sleep in pretty late, and I think I will let them. It's a good morning to snuggle in and, with a hot cup of fresh coffee close by, read. I plan to get caught up with my B.R.E.A.D. reading first (Bible Reading Enriches Any Day plan for reading through the Bible in a year), then on to Marla Cilley's Sink Reflections (I am a FlyBaby), and then if there is time, some books on voice training that I checked out of the library a few weeks ago but have not read yet (I want to strengthen and improve my speaking and singing voices). Ummm... makes me feel cozy just anticipating a morning like this. When does it end?Recently I wrote a long blog about giving thanks in all things in which I relate details about a long winter we spent without running water. It seems curious to me -- yet at the same time predictable -- that within a short time after that blog, and two Sundays in a row as we were preparing for church, our pump went out. The first time, Easter Sunday, the day of my water baptism, after trying all the usual fixes, I finally laid hands on the pump and prayed over it, and it started working. The next time, this past Sunday, things were different. Here it is Tuesday, and we are still without a satisfactory or lasting solution, although we are working within our options. All of this takes time, which of course, takes time away from other things, including homeschooling. Several other emergencies have occurred over the past few days, creating or contributing to a cascade of crises in our lives. I recognize all of this as trials and testing from the Lord; after all, I have lived such trials and testings for many years now. I have even learned to be truly thankful in the face of many things that seem at first to be negative, because I believe what my Lord said about all things working together for good, and because I have seen many things that appeared at first to be negative truly turn out to be for the best. As Christians, we will go through trials and tribulations, that is a given: Jhn 16:33 These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.
"When does it end?" one of my bosses (in my former career days) asked me, as though he expected me to have and exercise more control over the unforeseen and unavoidable things that were being brought to my doorstep. I didn't really know what to say. I know it ends when I draw my last breath; however, how do you begin to explain ongoing spiritual testing and refining to non-spiritual people? In no uncertain terms, God removed me from the arena wherein I was once asked such questions, and has in like manner prevented me from re-entering such arenas. So, answering such questions is, quite simply, not my problem anymore, and I am now more free to focus on God Himself, the One who is worthy of all praise and glory. He didn't say, "In some things give thanks..."
2:04 PM, Apr. 14, 2006
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Thank you, Lord, for our washing machine! That thought kept running through my mind yesterday afternoon as part of what I have attempted to cultivate as a longtime practice of I Thessalonians 5:18, "In every thing give thanks for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you." Expressing gratitude is a habit, and like all habits, is cultivated in easy times and is tried and refined (strengthened and made more perfect, more pure) during times which are not as easy, times of temptation. As to the latter -- a time of trial -- it was during such a time in my life (around the summer of 1982), when I found it impossible to be thankful for every thing. Some things, yes, of course; but every thing? You must be kidding! I knew my attitude was ungodly, but I just couldn't help it. As I stood washing dishes, I looked at the concrete block wall in front of me. We were living in a basement apartment -- again -- one where we had lived before and one to which I swore I would never return after the last time we had been there. Here we were again, for the third time, no less, in the last place on earth I wanted to be. The wall was painted bright yellow, my attempt during a previous occupation of that space to work with limited resources (donated paint) to make the best of the situation. I had to look up to see out the ivy-covered basement window and catch a glimpse of some sky. With tears streaming down my face, I continued to wash dishes and began to "write" a new song, a song of surrender to the Lord: Lord, let every step that I take, for the rest of my life, Only bring me closer to You Every song that I sing, every word that I speak Be always to glorify You... The song flowed, verse after verse, and was a song that was perfect (i.e. complete) the first time I sang it: that is the power of the Almighty God filling a hungry heart and mind. The words and melody fell upon me like a warm, sweet summer rain, verse after verse. If Your Son in my life could be best glorified, by a fire, Then, Lord, let it be. There's just one thing I'd ask of You: Be in that fire, My Lord, with me! Walk and talk in that fire with me! I kept singing until my tears gave way to rejoicing. I did not know it then, but in the very near future times were going to get harder, much harder. A few months later, just as the weather was turning cold and winter was setting in, our pump gave out and we were unable to arrange to have it fixed mostly because the pump person could not get his rig through the mud, ice and snow. So, we had no running water that winter of 1982 to 1983. Moreover, I had one child to get ready for the school bus in the morning and two younger ones to take care of during the day. In November that year, after several months of the worst morning sickness I have ever experienced, an emergency hospitalization, return home -- some things I don't want to think about, much less write about -- and return to the hospital with the worst labor pains I had ever felt (including in comparison with already having delivered three full-term babies), I miscarried what would have been our fourth child, a boy (Jeremy Benjamin), a supreme test of what I had sung to the Lord months earlier: If Your will means each dream I hold dear Must be crushed and ground into dust Then take each dream -- they all are Yours In You alone I wil learn to trust. Well, you have three other children at home, well-meaning nurses and others would say, attempting to comfort me. Not that child, I would think, feeling abandoned in grieving, in even being "permitted" to grieve. One nurse was sympathetic, having gone through a similar experience herself. God is faithful to comfort the grieving hearts of His saints, and He sent sisters in Christ, including a precious teenager (with Downs syndrome) in our church to comfort me openly, purely, sweetly, sincerely, when many others didn't quite know what to say... stories for another day, another posting, perhaps. At Christmas that year the Wagners, an elderly couple in our church, invited us to drive to Florida with them. They had a station wagon and lots of room for our entire brood: our three children, six-year-old Nathan, four-year-old Tia, and two-year-old Josiah, my husband and myself. The trip would give me the chance to see my mother (who hadn't even known of my pregnancy until we called to relate the news of my hospitalization and miscarriage) and be comforted by her the way only a mother can comfort. Besides, the Wagners would appreciate the help driving those long miles. I can still see Mr. Wagner sitting in the back seat and smiling, our children climbing all over him and showering him with affection. Hopefully, the car was not moving at that time: I don't remember. While in Florida, we picked up a car we had left in Florida when we had moved back to Pennsylvania and drove home in that, my disabled brother-in-law David (nineteen years old) returning with us. Not long after we returned (winter of 1983) almost everyone got the flu in the same week and virtually every sheet, towel and blanket we owned, not to mention our clothing, ended up in the laundry (you know why). At that time, I was washing all of our laundry on a scrub board in our laundry tub (the laundromat was too expensive and too far away). And remember, we did not have running water. We had to to carry water in buckets from the spring, which was some distance away, down a steep, icy trail deep in the woods. Then I had to heat up the water in a large aluminum kettle on the stove, carry it over to laundry tub and mix it with cold water, then scrub, scrub, scrub. At least the youngest was out of cloth diapers by then! Then I had to hang our laundry on the outside clothesline to freeze-dry. All this more opportunity to test the authenticity of my commitment, months earlier, a song of surrender to the Lord: Let no complaining words be found in my mouth May no murmuring reach Your ears Give me power to say, in the midst of a strife The Lord's my helper, and I'll not fear. I was thankful that the spring was running (sometimes it goes dry); thankful for my husband to carry the water from the spring (a five-gallon bucket in each hand); thankful for the large aluminum kettle to hold the water; thankful for the electricity to heat the water; thankful for the scrub board; thankful for the soap; thankful for my hands that were strong enough to wring out the wet laundry; thankful for the family to care for (had I not been told years before that I may never have children, now the Lord had blessed me with three, to someday become four?)... It was easy to be thankful and yielded to God's will regarding some things, even things that seemed difficult to do and hard to understand. However, I am not sure whether during that winter I ever was ever able to be truly thankful for every thing, and I am thinking specifically about my brother-in-law's being with us. In fact, that became a source of contention in my marriage for what seemed like good reasons to me then and still do now. However, that is the kind of limited, earthly thinking that unncessarily thwarts God's purpose in our lives, His preparing us for what is to come next. When God, in His written word says, "In every thing give thanks..." and when He "ramps up" that admonition by saying, "...for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you," does He leave us any wiggle room in interpretation? No, He does not. Inescapably, it is the will of God that we give thanks in every thing. Not some things, every thing. That winter was a brief season of my life, a fleeting opportunity to do unto the Lord by doing unto the "least of these" my brethren (literally). Technically, I did carry out my service faithfully, including to my brother-in-law. I cooked David's meals and washed his clothes and otherwise included him in family time, like story time with the children. When he had a seizure while eating and flung his glass or eating utensil and food or drink went everywhere, I cleaned up and did not complain in so doing. Did I give thanks for this situation, however? Not often enough, if at all; therefore, my service was not as perfect as it could have been had I been more yielded to the opportunity right in front of me. My brother-in-law died at age 27, less than ten years after that winter, of complications related to his illness, opportunities to minister to him on this earth cut off forever. In late 1994, after more than twenty years of marriage, my husband and I divorced under the strain of too much unyieldedness to the perfect will of God. On Valentine's Day, 2004, we agreed to reconcile, a story of redemption, restoration, reconciliation, not yet complete, part of the mosaic of our lives. Soon after the week that we were all sick, so many years ago, I found a good used wringer washer for forty dollars or so and was so grateful to have such a resource. In fact, it pretty much changed my life at that time; but again, that may be a story for another posting. All these things, and more, are background for this season of my life, where three of my four adult children and all three of my grandchildren now live with me, and of course,these things were part of my thinking and response yesterday when I was thinking: Thank you, Lord, for our washing machine, for this clothesline, and for the sun and wind which have dried this laundry so well and have made it smell so good. I was just starting to pluck what seemed like scores of sheets and towels from our outside clothesline. As mentioned in earlier posts this week, my five-year-old granddaughter (Laurel) has been sick most of the week. Suddenly, this household of seven which normally generates more laundry than I can believe at times, began generating A WHOLE LOT MORE LAUNDRY, especially sheets and towels. Even so, it was not so difficult to give thanks. It was a beautiful, sunshiney Florida day and has been an amazing week in my spiritual life. Yesterday, the day was filled with extra work to do, including because now my grandson Gavin (ten years old) was getting sick too. I was trying to rush to get back inside the house so I could further tend to the sick ones and the other things to do. What is going on here? I thought as I attempted to take down the first sheet. Even though I had removed the two or three pins holding the sheet at the top, the sheet would not come down. Looking more closely, I found out why: the sheet was pinned to its neighboring sheet with a long line of clothespins all along the edge. What on earth? I thought as I proceeded to unpin twenty or so clothespins from that edge and attempted again to take down the sheet. Still, it would not come. What now? Now I found that the sheet was pinned all along its other edge to the other neighboring sheet. So, it went all the way around the clothesline. That Moriah! I thought, referring to my seven-year-old granddaughter, What is she going to think of next? Virtually every piece of laundry was pinned to the adjacent article of laundry. A five-minute job was turning into a fifteen-minute job, at least. As I surveyed the sun-dried laundry, I was amazed at the forest of clothespins before me, each anchoring some item of laundry to the next. I didn't realize we had so many clothespins, I thought. Normally, I would have called the culprit outside to undo her project. However, Moriah was not around. She had gone with her Uncle Joey (with whom she frequently attempts to lock horns, except he won't let her get by with it) to my father's "ranch" to help out with some things there. I was on my own. We do have an electric clothes dryer, but as much as practical, try to use our "solar clothes dryer" especially for sheets and blankets. The down side is, since it is not always urgent to take down what gets put up on the outside clothesline (to make room for the next load of laundry, for example) sometimes things get left up for days. Today, I walked into the kitchen where Moriah was helping her beloved Uncle Nate make an omellette, put my arm around her and described what I had found on the clothesline. I hadn't gotten very far into the account before she started to giggle, and when I concluded by asking, "Do you have any idea how that happened?" She confessed (still giggling) that she and Laurel had been trying to make a clubhouse for themselves. I hadn't realized the laundry had been hanging up there that long, and must have been some of what was put up before Laurel got sick. Also, the actual story is different from what I had assumed at first. I thought the laundry on the line had been put up after Laurel got sick, so she could not possibly have been involved, and that left Moriah working as a lone agent (I am sure she was the instigator, I know enough of how her mind works). I also figured (incorrectly as it turns out) that Moriah had simply been practicing clothespinning out of wanting to be like her mother and me, but that she couldn't reach the line so settled for pinning the edges of the sheets. Our assumptions, while well-reasoned, can be wrong, and it is so important to get the child's side of the story (hopefully, you will get an honest account). Moriah was open with me in large part because her mother, my daughter Tia, has cultivated a practice of talking to her children. Moriah was also open with me partly because I created a safe context in which she could open up and share. She got the point of knowing that she had created extra work for me and should not do that again, and hopefully she got that point with her positive qualities, including as outlined above, stoked and stroked. There are so many times when a child's agenda works against our own. This does not end, by the way, when the child is grown. These are stimulating circumstances the Lord allows to come into our lives for our growth as well, and as aggravated as their efforts may make us because of that, it is important to stop, take a breath, and give thanks in that thing too! In the example above, the girls showed quite a bit of creativity and imagination. They had the initiative to carry through on what they imagined. What do you know! initiative was the character quality we studied a couple of weeks ago! And they showed determination (another character quality we have recently studied) and perseverence in completing their task. It must have taken quite a bit of effort for such small hands to do what they did with so many clothespins. Laurel is better now, though still weak from not being able to keep anything in for several days. She won't eat yogurt (recommended to re-establish her intestinal environment), so I am sneaking homemade yogurt into her milk and masking the taste with vanilla and brown sugar (there are trade-offs). Gavin awakened this morning (after sleeping the night on the huge chair and ottoman in my room, feeling fine, never having gotten as sick as Laurel. Moriah and the rest of us have escaped getting sick altogether, thus far, at least. Praise be to God! Life got in the way of my homeschooling my own children, as much as I wanted to do so at the time, except for the younger two during the latter years of their high school. Now I am homeschooling my precious grandchildren. The years have brought many testings of my sung surrender to the Lord, testings I am sure will not end until I have drawn my final breath and enter into His presence: Let every thought that I think for the rest of my life Be the thoughts of my Lord and King May every word and every song Going out of my mouth Of Your glory and Your praises ring. God is so faithful, and I praise Him that I worship "...him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us..." (Eph. 3:20). Authentic Baptism in the Holy Ghost: A New PerspectiveOur church is having special services this week. Normally I work on Wednesday nights, but I had arranged to get off early so I could go to the church service last night and have arranged to do so again tonight. My sister has recently made a commitment to pick her nieces (my daughter's) children from our home and take them to Wednesday evening services. Then my daughter meets them there after her (pre-nursing) classes. Last night my sister picked me up with the chidlren (except for the five-year-old who is still sick and stayed home to be cared for by her doting uncles for a few hours). We arrived a few minutes early. My daughter and a friend arrived shortly thereafter. The service was wonderful, as always, filled with praise and glory to God, and sound, uncompromised scriptural teachings. The saints rejoiced in being informed of my baptism in the Holy Ghost (see previous post). After the service the pastor and my sister were talking, and after returning from some errand, I was invited to join in the conversation. We spoke of many things, including what it means to be baptised in the Holy Ghost and my trying to make sense of my life up to the point that that had happened to me (on Palm Sunday), including putting into perspective what I had long since considered my "conversion" (when I was fifteen years old). What I am being taught now -- and I am convinced the teaching is sound, scripturally -- is challenging the very foundations of scriptural teaching I have had before. Being filled with the Holy Ghost does not necessarily automatically come with believing that Jesus Christ died for our sins and accepting Him as personal Lord and Savior; it is necessary to be baptised both by the water in the name of Jesus Christ and by the Spirit: I know more completely what that means now. In fact, some churches that teach about believing in the Lord teach against being filled with the Holy Ghost with the evidence of speaking in tongues especially: that is contrary to scripture! The Lord is faithful to fill a hungry heart and is also faithful to draw those who so hunger unto Himself and to prepare those each step of the way for what comes next. I expect I'll be writing more about these things as time goes by and my own understanding grows. For now I rejoice in the utterly profound truth that the Lord does not wish to dwell in mountain tops or tabernacles or temples, but in each and every one of us. How wonderful is that? Buttermilk Pancakes and Good and Bad BehaviorMy five-year-old granddaughter, the youngest of my three grandchildren, was sick last night, and threw up at least twice. She was tended to by her uncle (my eldest son) who was up anyway and let me sleep through it all, awakening me only when he was ready to leave for work to give me an update. She was still sleeping after the older grandchildren (10 and 7) were up and ready for breakfast, then homeschool. She didn't feel feverish, and I decided to keep the house quiet and let her sleep as long as she needed to. So, we made a very simple and quick breakfast of buttermilk pancakes (from a mix, just add water) and decided to have school in my room instead of the new schoolroom. (My room is set up like a living room and is where we used to have school before we converted the actual living room into a homeschool room about two months ago).While I was standing watch over the cooking pancakes, I called the seven-year-old over, and she stood with arms around me, mine around her shoulder. I counseled her about a behavior that I had observed a short time before that needed correcting, and it was a teachable, private moment. She then became very intrigued by the process of making pancakes, so I let her help with the flipping, explaining how to know when the pancakes are ready to flip. And then we decided to make shapes and see if the other could figure out what they were. She was so excited, then the ten-year-old became likewise interested and excited. There is no big lesson here, just a pleasant reminder of how easily children are pleased and excited, what a gift it is to be around to witness that, and to rejoice by saying, "Behold, how good and how pleasant [it is] for brethren to dwell together in unity!" Psalm 133:1 Have to go. The little one is up and needs a bath, and I think I hear a fight breaking out. Mjeddrah (Esau's "mess of pottage")Mjeddrah (spellings vary) is one of my all-time favorite dishes to prepare and serve. It is so simple, yet delicious. Biblical scholars believe mjeddrah is the "mess of pottage" for which Esau sold his birthright. I prepared a double batch of mjeddrah on Saturday when extended family came to visit (see my "Laughter" post below). Our food supplies were getting sort of low, and this was something i could make A LOT of in a hurry. Mjeddrah 2 T oil (olive oil is good, but other kinds are fine too) 2 T minced garlic OR one small onion, chopped fine 1 c lentils 1 c brown rice (can use white, see altered instructions below) 4 - 4 1/2 c water Salt and cracked pepper to taste. Hot sauce, too, if you like. Preparation time: about 30 minutes Cooking time: about 20 minutes Heat
about 2 T oil (olive oil is good) in a large skillet (don't use cast
iron unless you like gray rice). Saute about 2 T minced garlic,
or one small onion chopped fine, in the heated oil. In the
meantime, rinse one cup of lentils, and pick through to remove duds and
rocks. I like to use a fine-screed sieve for this as the lentils
are so small they slip through a regular colander. Dump the
washed lentils on top of the cooked garlic or onion, and quickly dump
the brown rice on top of that. Mix it all together, then quickly
add the water. Cover and lower heat to a medium temperature (it
is "4" on my electric stove). When all the water is absorbed,
check a few of the lentils for doneness. If necessary, add a bit
more water and cook longer until done. Do not overcook. The lentils and brown rice require about the same length of cooking time. White rice requires a shorter cooking time, so if you want or need to use white rice instead, let the lentils cook at least five minutes before adding the white rice. Serving suggestion: As with many of the foods I prepare, I do not add seasonings until ready to serve, and then, add to each individual's serving (we have a household of people with varying dietary preferences and needs). I like it with salt and cracked pepper, and hot sauce (Tabasco), with plain chilled yogurt on the side. (The yogurt gives a cool place for your tongue to run when it is on fire from the hot sauce). Sometimes we serve mjeddrah with tortillas, lightly warmed or browned in a hot cast-iron skillet. It is also good with pita pockets, lettuce, tomatoes and dressing. It is best with many Middle Eastern (and African) recipes to "toast" the rice before cooking. This is accomplished in a *dry* heavy skillet (cast-iron is best) on a medium high heat. You have to stir the rice constantly and be careful not to burn, but it really adds a lot to the flavor. It may even "pop" like miniature popcorn. I don't always bother, but probably should. The added flavor makes it worth the extra effort. Like I said, on Saturday I made a double batch of mjeddrah. Even the little ones (3 to 10) enjoyed it. The smallest (16 mos.) is teething, so isn't eating much of anything. I sent the leftovers home with my 81-year-old dad who lives alone. I spoke with him a little while ago, and he said that my sister had come over Monday night after grocery shopping for him, and stayed to visit a while. He said they pretty much finished off the leftover mjeddrah at that time. Enjoy! Authentic Baptism in the Holy GhostYesterday in church I was baptised with the Holy Ghost and spoke in tongues. That has never happened to me before. I have believed for a long time that the Lord could do this and had trusted Him as to whether or when He would. At the front of the church, with singing and praising going on, but kneeling by myself, I cried out and beseeched the Lord for His promise regarding the restoration, reconciliation of my entire family, top to bottom, side to side, person by person... not just for salvation, but for sanctification, consecration unto His service. Both believing and beseeching God for that promise, I cried out and asked to be filled with the Holy Ghost, and it was done, then and there. As my cries gave way to speaking in tongues I no more had control over my vocal organs than I had control over the moon. I did not recognize any of the words, if my utterances were words.I had been afraid that being in a Pentecostal environment (which is largely foreign to me until relatively recently) might cause me to feel "pressured to perform." If I spoke in tongues, how would I know for sure it was authentic? I just did not want it to be in my own power or might. God understood my fears and filled me in such a way that there could be no doubt about its coming from Him. After I got back home, I was relating the account to my adult daughter (mother of my grandchildren), and I burst out laughing hysterically. When I calmed down enough to explain it was to tell her that I had felt that there was some humorous aspect to all this that I had been missing, that I didn't quite "get." Then it occurred to me, God sealed the authenticity of his filling me with His Holy Ghost by having me speak in a way that I would never have chosen for myself! In fact, my thought was something like, "If I were operating in the flesh, I would not be caught dead talking like that!" I would have chosen a beautiful language, with poetic sounding words and inflections. This was not that at all. I am so filled with awe I can scarcely find words, except to praise the Name that is above all other names: Praise be to Jesus, the author and finisher of my faith. ChangesWe ran out of laundry detergent and fabric softener late last evening. In our household, we go through a LOT more laundry than it seems possible for just seven people to generate. As I was preparing to go to the store for more laundry supplies, I decided to make the most of the trip by strapping on a Walkman tape player so I could listen to a book tape. My ten-year-old grandson (a member of the household who is also one of my homeschool pupils) came in and saw me getting ready and asked me in the frank way he has of communicating with me, especially, what was up with me lately. He said: "Amma, you are listening to music all the time now and you never used to. You are wearing a Walkman and you never have before. AND you are even blogging now and you never have before. What's up with you, Amma?" I just grinned and said in my most teasingly evasive way, "Watch out for Amma! There is a lot more to come!" Indeed, I do have a lot more changes planned; however, I grinned partly because what my grandson perceived as recent changes in my behavior that he apparently found a bit unsettling did not seem to me to be either new or very worthy of notice."Amma, you are listening to music all the time now and you never used to..." This is true, and the short explanation for this is that I have just recently been able to get my Internet radio to work! I love to listen to the Messianic praise and worship music played on the Heart of Israel radio that my sister introduced me to several years ago, but I just hadn't been able to get the Internet radio on my computer to work until very recently. Moreover, although we have other radios in the house that I could listen to, I tend not to do so out of habit. When my children were young I cultivated the habit of not letting electronic "noise" of any kind encroach upon my being available to listen to my children when they spoke to me (which among other things meant not having to ask them to repeat what they had said because my mind was somewhere else), so I almost never listened to the radio, even Christian radio, when my children were awake and around me. In fact, if I was listening to something on the radio, and they walked into the room, I would get up and turn it off. (Some other time I may write a blog just on that, how the Lord convicted me, and what He taught me). Now, when I sit and work at my computer, I am generally alone, so listening to music during those times fits with my long-time habit as described above, and that is what my grandson has observed. "You are wearing a Walkman and you never have before..." I have long believed that the audiotory sense is a very efficient and effective avenue for taking in information, even when we are otherwise occupied, including while we are sleeping. In fact, I once prepared for an international certification exam largely that way, by listening to study tapes as I was falling asleep and sleeping. To the great amazement (and I think consternation) of my naysayers, I passed the exam on the first try, praise the Lord. During that timeframe, I was working full time and raising four children, and just didn't have a lot of time to study or even to read. Recently, I checked out from our local library an eleven-tape set of audiotapes of the unabridged version of HOW TO READ A BOOK, by Mortimer Adler and Charles Van Doren. This is a book of well over three hundred pages (over four hundred including the appendices and index) that was originally published in 1940 and was updated in 1972. I intend to purchase a copy of it but wanted to review a copy from our local library first; the problem was, our local library did not have a copy of the book, only the tapes. So, I placed a hold on the tapes and then had to wait months before they became available, proof, I think, that said book is a "living classic." (I may write another blog on why I wanted to read that particular book). Anyway, with my busy schedule, getting through eleven tapes during the timeframe that they are checked out of the library is going to be a challenge; hence, the Walkman. "AND you are even blogging now and you never have before." That is true. For years now others have been telling me I should blog. I do manage a website that runs sort of like a blog, but I had never really blogged. More recently, Liz ("humpty" on this blog) another homeschooling grandma and my Internet penpal, asked me (again) whether I blog. I had started writing a response to her telling her that no, I don't blog, and no, I don't plan to, citing what seemed to me to be some pretty good reasons she would understand. Something made me delay sending that response to her long enough to reconsider to the point of actually starting this blog, and I am already glad that I did. Now, to understand the fullness of my grandson's comment, you must understand that he is an "apprentice" to his uncle (my oldest son) and that together they are REALLY computer geeks in every best sense of the term. My son blogs a lot, and my grandson is around to witness that. Although he knows I am not technologically ignorant by a long shot (I used to be Director of Distance Learning at a major research university), I think he just saw blogging for me as being as much out of my element as say, my playing video games (something my elder sister loves to do, but that I never do). When I got back from the store, I was still hooked into the Walkman, unpacking the laundry supplies and groceries. Now, my seven-year-old granddaughter was next to me, studying me carefully, and wanting to know if I was listening to music. At first I was really amused by all the attention. Then, I realized anew what important places we fill for our children, grandchildren, and for that matter the other little ones in our lives, including spiritual babies... how sensitive they are to our examples, and how closely we are being watched by them! Are the changes they are observing in us more toward the positive or negative end of the continuum? Let's hope and pray for the former lest we offend these little ones and in so doing offend the Lord. Precious and Most Gracious Heavenly Father, I praise You that I, like a little child, can so readily learn from You by studying Your holy example. Lead me, in turn, in becoming a more and more accurate reflection of You for this ever-widening river of offspring and others. I praise you for Your forgiveness and grace, without which I would quickly be consumed by my many failings, but with which I can know and rest in the certainty of my salvation and sanctification, and the hope of eternal life, for Thy sake. In the name of Yeshua ha Meshiach, Amen. LaughterMy elder sister Connie has always been like a second mother to me. After all, I was the baby sister she had prayed so hard for, so that made her responsible for me, and that has never ended, not even now that we are both grandmothers ourselves. She visited today with her two grandchildren, one a three-and-one-half-year-old girl, and the other a sixteen-month-old boy. Our 81-year-old father, family patriarch, was with them. Our household currently consists of three of my four adult children, my three grandchildren (10, 7 and 5) and myself. Our house is not that big, but we always seem to do pretty well all things considered.The Lord is in the process of knitting our family back together, a process that seems painstakingly slow. Sometimes tensions rise as I suspect they sometimes do within the closest of families. People are human, after all. But my sister has evolved a philosophy that seems wise and pertinent. She has expressed that if she had it to do over again -- raising her three sons and being involved in the raising of my three sons and one daughter -- she would laugh more... she would look for the humor more and be less intense. My sister put her philosophy into practice at my home today. One of the children had stalked away from the others and was sulking in the hallway. My sister was sitting some distance away, but simply waited until she caught that child's eye, then smiled broadly, not quite laughing, but almost, whereupon the child dissolved into smiles and giggles they tried to cover in embarassment, but then went back in the room to play with the other children. Lord, as part of the overall balance we need in our lives, let us take a lighter look when we need to do so and learn to laugh more, especially where the little ones in our family are concerned. Amen. Sunsets on the Gulf of MexicoMy family and I live just outside Aripeka, Florida, a town which prides itself on being the last remaining authentic fishing village in the state. I do not know whether the town's claim to fame is true, but I do know it is a unique place. Locals are a pretty diverse lot, but many share a local tradition: gathering at the bridge (Aripeka has two bridges, actually) to watch the sunset. That's what I thought of when choosing the sunset template for this blog: the view of glorious sunsets over the Aripeka salt marshes over the Gulf of Mexico from the bridge in Aripeka. Such traditions are some of the "glue" by which some of the unlikeliest of communities are bound.As I write this, I have a sense of a new era's dawning in my life. I am listening to Messianic music on "Heart of Israel" Internet radio, the windows in the house are open to the cool April night air, one of my granddaughters is sleeping sweetly in the easy chair next to me, and life seems very, very good indeed. |
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