News from the lego farm

God's Christmas List

In our bulletin this Sunday was a printed list that was essentially “God’s wish list” for Christmas.  It listed several things that the author presumed God would want, should He decide to give us His wish list.  On the back of the bulletin was another list – this one was the Ten Commandments of Christmas.  Again, an author outlined what he or she thought was important for us to do at Christmas time.

Both of these lists gave some good ideas and reminded the reader to show love and kindness to others.  But it struck me as a little annoying that they were written in the first person, as if direct from the mouth of God.  While I’m sure the Lord is happy with those who do take some of the suggestions to heart, I wondered what His wish list would really be.

Fortunately we can know what God wants by simply reading His Word.  Christmas was not a holiday until well after Christ’s birth, so obviously there is nothing in the Bible specifically about the holiday.  But the reason we celebrate is because of Christ’s birth, so what does God have to say about that?

I looked up the passages, although I know some of them by heart, and it occurred to me that while kindness and love and generosity are all traits that God wants us to exhibit, the main focus of Christ’s birth is, of course, Christ. 

That seems simple enough.  Yet how often do we become so focused on “doing” at Christmas that we forget to simply worship Christ?

Now I am certainly not saying that kindness, love and generosity are not important.  They are.  But what good are they if they are done without the love of Christ?  If I give a man a coat I will keep him warm for a winter, but when I share the love of Christ he can be saved for eternity.  My point is not which to offer, but that we should always offer both.  When we focus on the giving, it is easy to lose sight of the reason.  When we focus on Christ, the giving comes naturally out of His love in us.

I love the Christmas season.  I love that people become friendly and cheerful at this time of year.  I even love the opportunity it gives us to give a smile and a “Merry Christmas” to people like store clerks who are frustrated with unhappy customers and busy shifts.  But it’s easy to get caught up in doing good things and forget the reason we should do them.  We should love others because Christ loves us.  We should be generous because we have experienced the saving grace of our Father and desire others to experience it as well.

Our main purpose here on earth is to glorify the Father.  We do this by sharing love, kindness and all those good things with others.  We do it by sharing the gospel with the lost.  All of these things are important, not just at Christmas but all year, but they are as rags unless they come from a spirit of worship and adoration of the Messiah.  It is HIS love we need to share.

There was a day unknown before in history
When God came down to dwell as man;
As a helpless Babe He came, the Lord of Heaven:
Oh, child, what love He must have had for you and for me.

Love came down that holy night,
Love came down to save us all;
And one day love nailed Him on a cross to take my place
His name is Love, His name is Jesus.

(“His Name is Love” by Carol Sergisson)

A Moment of Peace

Rush, rush, rush.  So many mornings start out rushing.  “Get up!” we exhort the children, then we bustle around getting laundry started, making sure everyone is up and moving and just generally getting the day under way.  Over the years I’ve found that a slow start to the morning makes the whole day a drudge, a constant battle to keep people focused on the task at hand.  So the morning effort to get the day started in good time is a worthwhile one.

In October there came a change to this busy routine.  Although the busy, rushing mornings still begin that way, once people are moving I get in the car, often with a child or two, and head out to the saddle club to feed our newly-acquired and well loved horse, Max, and to do the morning chores.

I step out of the vehicle and instantly time stands still.  All is quiet.  All is peaceful.  Max saunters up to the gate to greet us.  We stand for a few minutes, just accepting his welcome that comes in the form of nips on our mitts and sniffs on our faces.  Then it’s into the paddock as we start the morning chores.

I generally start with the shovel.  I pull the wheelbarrow over to where I can wheel it under the fence and begin my tour around the paddock looking for steaming piles and now-frozen hockey pucks.  Now that we have snow on the ground it can be quite a hunt to find them all.  As I work Max follows me, sometimes coming around to stand in front of me, hampering my work.  But I don’t mind.  I stop and talk to my new friend as I pet his neck or forehead.  He purrs softly in return. 

After checking the water level in his trough, and going for water if it’s getting too low, I stop to pet Max and talk to him some more before I feed him.  Once I get his hay he is not nearly as conversational.  I spread his hay in the barn and he digs in.  I stay just a little longer, petting him and brushing him while he enjoys his breakfast.

I sigh a long, contented sigh.  Finally I force myself to say good bye.  I have to get back home to get the kids started on their school work.  It is hard to leave this quiet, peaceful place.  The cold weather is making it a little easier, but I still linger just a moment longer, drinking in the calm stillness of the morning.

“Good bye, Max.  See you tomorrow,” I remind myself that I get to come back every day.  Why God worked out every detail so that we could bring my father-in-law’s horse home when he passed away is beyond me.  We don’t deserve so great a gift.  But we rejoice in the blessing that is Max.

Any Questions?

I received the following letter today from the Canadian office of the HSLDA (Home School Legal Defence Association).

~~~

A new study released today by the Canadian Centre for Home Education reveals that home-educated adults excel in all measured areas of adult life.

The study surveyed adults whose parents responded to a 1994 study on home education. Ranging in age from 15 to 34, they answered questions on a variety of topics with comparable data from Statistics Canada. The results were astounding.

When measured against the Canadian average, home-educated adults were more socially engaged and almost twice as likely to have voted in a federal election. Average income was higher with more sources of investment income and self employment, and no cases of government support as the primary source of income. They were happier in their work and their lives in general. When reflecting on the value of being home educated, most felt that it was an advantage in their adult life.

“In terms of income, education, entrepreneurial endeavours, involvement in their community, and all the other characteristics measured, home-educated adults not only excel, but also make meaningful contributions to their communities. They are the type of neighbours we all want,” says president Paul Faris.

The study Fifteen Years Later: Home-Educated Canadian Adults is available in full form and as a synopsis at www.hslda.ca/cche.

For additional information or comment, please contact Paul Faris, President, at 519-913-0318

info@hslda.ca
www.hslda.ca/cche

~~~

And yet we still have to fight for our right to educate our children with this time-proven method.  Could it be that the school boards, governments, and general populace are interested in something other than the children's well-being?

Hold the Torch High

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead.  Short days ago
We lived, fell down, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
     In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch, be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
     In Flanders fields.

(John McCrae, a Canadian medical officer who served in WW I)

Thank you to those who currently "take up the quarrel with the foe" daily.  The foe has changed, but the quarrel has not.  Those who fight selflessly for the freedom of all, hold the torch high.  We support you.  We appreciate you.  We thank you.

Black Maximus in Winter White

This was on my mind this morning as I spent ten minutes scraping frost off the truck windows.  It’s not terribly cold yet, but after 15 years in this northern climate I have learned to dread the oncoming winter.  Not even so much because it’s so cold as because it’s so long.  Even this year, when winter was a bit later in coming, the first snowfall – something I used to find beautiful – only reminded me that the long winter was about to begin.  “Here we go,” I thought despondently, gritting my teeth in preparation for the long, cold months ahead.  This morning’s frost only reminded me that winter has begun.  It is early November now, so it really was a late start, but I know that I will probably not be truly warm again until at least May.

I got in the car and drove reluctantly slow over the icy roads.  It takes so much longer to do anything in the winter, I moaned inwardly.  I turned into the saddle club and pulled up to Max’s temporary paddock.  They are still building his stall, so he has to be out here in the meantime.  Yet another thing to add to my list of why I hate winter.  There is no electricity out here, so we can’t use a water heater.  Instead we have to haul warm water from home 2 or 3 times a day so that he has water to drink.  But before refilling his water bucket I have to chip the ice out.  My son rakes up manure and says his hands are cold.  I give him my warm mitts and keep my own hands warm rubbing in Max’s thick winter coat of fur.

It doesn’t take long to shrug the winter blues.  In fact, as soon as we start working in the paddock the blues slip away.  I shovelled, filled the water bucket, got the hay, and stroked some of the white frost off Max’s black mane and back.  Max’s full name is Go Boy’s Black Maximus.  Go Boys is from his sire’s name.  Maximus is Latin for greatest or biggest.  This big, black horse is well named.  There is something magical about caring for a horse.  At least for me there is.  We’ve had Max for about a month now, and I still love every job I’ve had to do for him.  The only thing I haven’t enjoyed is being cold while doing those jobs.  Still, even when I go and think I won’t stay long because it’s too cold, I find that I don’t want to leave.  I enjoy working at the paddock and especially being around Max.  We’re still getting to know each other, and I want to spend as long as I can there every day to facilitate that process. 

But eventually we do have to get home.  So we pile into the truck and head back out to the highway.  But first we have to drive through the field where the large round bales of hay are kept, and it is there that I noticed the beauty of winter for the first time this year.  A beauty I used to appreciate, but having endured so many long winters I now often miss.  The long grass in the field was covered in frost, and it glistened in the morning sun, reflecting, like millions of tiny prisms, all the colours of the rainbow.

If nothing else, living up here has afforded me many beautiful sights of winter that I had never seen in the more southerly climate I grew up in.  This was definitely one of them.  I watched the twinkling frost as I drove through the field and back out to the highway, knowing that winter does have some beautiful redeeming qualities.  I thought this winter would be harder because I have to be outside every day.  Could it be possible that this “Great Black” horse who has already blessed us in so many ways, will also make this winter just that much more bearable?  I’m beginning to think he might.

To Hallow or Not to Hallow

“I am somewhat shocked at the fundy churches who have "Harvest Day" celebrations to keep their flock away from the evils of the pagan holiday.  Umm... does no one do their homework anymore? Samhain IS a harvest festival.  Your jack-o-lanters with Jesus cut out on them are a really fine hallmark of the pagan reverence for the dead on this day. Your bonfire? Well... if you knew how that tweaked the nips of every pagan looking for an excuse for rolicking good Sabbat revelry, well... would you still do it? Seriously, people... if you're going to co-opt a pagan holiday, then proceed to secularize the h*** out of it with candies and Power Rangers costumes, and THEN eschew it for something else, at least take the time to see that your something else isn't rife with even MORE pagan symbolism than the thing you were trying to eschew in the first place.”

For our family we have decided to opt out of the Halloween scene.  We do not dress up, we do not go to halloween parties (even glorified "harvest" parties), we do not give out candy at the door.  The most common response I have to this is, “But it’s all in fun.”  That may be, but it doesn’t change what they are celebrating “in fun.”  We did not come to this decision lightly.  We spent quite a few years (really, quite a few fall seasons) praying about this decision and doing our research.  Without having seen the above quote, we realized that she is right.  Another common response is, “It doesn’t matter what its origins are.  It’s what it is now that counts.”  I can assure you that while the origins are not entirely irrelevant, we came to our decision not because of the origins of Halloween, but because of what it is today.  Take a look at the facts.

There is more crime on Halloween night than any other night of the year.  Do I really want to be part of a holiday that encourages this? 

You don’t have to go far down the street to see that the holiday is all about death.  Do I really want to be part of a holiday that glorifies death, whether or not this is the participants’ intention?

The justification of “it’s all in fun” is also a concern.  Should we really make light of things that are very real and very dangerous?

Church parties that “clean up” Halloween aren’t really changing it.  They are simply taking out the most offensive elements in order to free their consciences to participate in what they like about the holiday.  As noted in the above quote, even in good intentions some of these celebrations incorporate traditions that we would really not want to participate in if we truly understood what they are. 

And I have asked myself why?  Why is it such a big deal to simply not participate?  What is so wonderful about the celebration that we have to make all kinds of excuses and changes to it in order to not miss out on the fun?  What really would we be missing?  Dressing up and eating candy?  Surely we don’t need Halloween for that.  Furthermore, if it really is a night that is important on the occultic calendar (and it is) why are the churches bending over backwards in order not to miss out?  Why, I ask myself, are we not responding with prayer against the evil of the night instead?  Even if you choose to ignore the satanic activity of the night, believing that it doesn’t matter as long as you don’t personally participate in that specific portion of the holiday, there is still the matter of increased criminal activity.  Ask any policeman and he will confirm this.  Should we not be responding in prayer rather than trying to see how much we can legitimately celebrate?  It just doesn’t make sense to me. 

Again, I write this not to point fingers or to tell others what they should do.  Please don’t comment that I should just chill out because it’s all in fun.  As I said, we did not come to this decision lightly or quickly, and it's ok if you disagree with me.  I simply suggest that you do so with full knowledge of the information and in prayer.  Is there really anything in the Halloween celebrations valuable enough to be worth cleaning up just so we won’t miss out?  Think about it.

Thanksgiving: Better Late Than Never!

1.  Max.  Max is a beautiful black Tennessee Walking Horse, bred and trained by my father-in-law.  With Dad’s fight with cancer picking up he decided it was time to sell his beloved horses.  He has bred Tennessee Walkers for many, many years, so this was a hard place to come to.  He wanted one of his kids to have at least one of the horses, but none of us live on property that could house them.  They sold two of the three, but the last one, Max, would just not be sold.  Meanwhile, my husband surprised us all by checking into a local saddle club to see if we could bring Max here and house him at the club.  After watching God work out all the details, many of them at the very last minute, Max is finally ours!  I was glad to hear that our taking Max was a relief to the family who had been unsure what to do if they couldn’t find a home for him.  Meanwhile, my oldest daughter and I could not be happier.  Owning a horse is something I have always wanted, but thought would never happen.  Victoria inherited that desire, whether from me or from her Opa.  Now we are living the dream!

2.  Family.  We were called to come as my father-in-law was not doing well.  The decision to go was made at 10 pm on Friday, Sept 25, and by 11 pm the next day we had made the 1400 km drive and were at my sister-in-law’s.  For the next week we spent a lot of time at the hospital where my father-in-law finished his 3-year fight with cancer.  During that time we were blessed by their large family as a constant stream of visitors came and went.  Supper was brought to us at the hospital.  Prayers were said on our behalf.  Several times family sang around my father-in-law’s bed blessing not only us, but the nursing staff as well with their hymns of praise.  It is a wonderful heritage my children have received through their father’s family, and it was a great blessing for them to see the faith of their fathers (and uncles and cousins) worked out in such a practical and loving way.  My own family supported me by phone and my parents were able to come to the funeral and blessed us with their gift of music before and after the service.

3.  Heritage of love.  In addition to the heritage mentioned above, I was also touched to see the deep sorrow of my mother-in-law in the final days of her husband’s life.  There are many occasions that give me cause to be thankful for my own marriage, and this was one of them.  To have a husband whom I love as deeply, and to know that he loves me the same is a treasure beyond measure.

4.  Relationships.  There is something about spending all night with someone at the bedside of another that makes one feel much closer to both.  My mother-in-law had been spending her nights in the hospital with her husband, and the last two nights my sister-in-law and I stayed with her so she would not be alone.  Through this, as well as the rest of the week’s events, we grew closer than we had been before.  We were also able to develop more friendships with some of my husband’s cousins whom we were blessed to be able to visit with over our time at the coast.

5.  Hospital staff.  The ward my father-in-law was on was excellent.  The doctor was available throughout the day and gave us honest and informative daily evaluations of my father-in-law’s condition.  The nursing staff were incredible in their genuine care of their patient as well as his family.  We were wonderfully blessed by this compassionate and competent medical staff.

6.  My husband.  He is an amazing man who was able to drive 17 hours (including stops) after only 4 hours sleep.  (I did drive after lunch for a couple of those hours while he napped in the back seat.)  He spent a huge amount of time over those two weeks driving out to where his Dad’s horses were to feed them, sorting through the barn, finding what we would need to bring Max home and care for him, packing tack, etc.  He spent a full day working on the brakes of the horse trailer only to realize that he did not have the parts nor the time to finish the job and took the trailer to a garage to have the brakes done.  He helped with the set up and clean up for the reception after the funeral.  He stayed up very late packing up the horse trailer the night before we left, then drove about 9 hours Saturday and again on Sunday, pulling Max in the trailer and letting him out to walk in the mornings before we left and in the evenings after we arrived at that day’s destination.  And through all the craziness he remained calm and got the jobs done.

7.  Friends.  We obviously could not pull Max in the trailer for 17 hours, so we had to make the return trip in two days.  But that posed the problem of where to stop for the night where Max could get out and walk.  We had met a friend and riding buddy of my in-laws a few times over the two weeks.  His wife was managing a hotel at a town roughly half way between where we were and home.  They graciously offered us lodging as well as a place for Max in their stable.  Unfortunately one of the horses at their stable had contracted an illness so Max could not stay there, however Mike found a place for our truck & trailer behind the motel and helped my husband walk Max and clean the trailer for his night’s stay.  We were very blessed by their hospitality.

8.  More friends and family.  It was such a comfort to know that we had family and friends all over the country praying for our father and our family throughout this whole time, and in fact, throughout Dad’s illness.

9.  Our Risen Lord.  Most of all we know it was the Lord’s grace that sustained us.  It was His hand that ordered all our steps and worked out all the details so that we could be there with our family at this critical time, and so that we could bring Dad’s horse home with us.  But most of all we are filled with gratitude that He allowed His Son to die and to rise again, thus conquering death once and for all!  Because of this, says the well-known hymn, I can face tomorrow.  Because He lives all fear is gone.  As we said good bye to my father-in-law, we knew that it was not forever.  While the parting was difficult, there was great comfort in knowing that his pain is gone, his fight is over.  He now has a perfectly healthy body in which to spend eternity, and we will see him there.  This is what Paul meant when he wrote to the Corinthians, “Oh death, where is your victory?  O death, where is your sting?”  (I Cor. 15:55)  There is no sting in death because for those who love God, it is temporary.  Because I know He holds the future, I can face uncertain days because He lives!  (Words from “Because He Lives” by Bill Gaither)

Me and Max

Doesn't Count List

Where have all my serious posts gone?  Let's face it, as a homeschooling mother of four my life is full of random funny happenings, and I love to share them.  And that's ok.  But it's also important to remember the heart of living, which for me is my faith in Christ.  This morning my cousin posted a link to a blog I had never seen before, and I am glad I took a few moments to read it.  I was surprised to learn that I do, indeed, have a "Doesn't Count List."

I don't know about the author and this is the only post of his that I've read, but this one I can highly recommend.  Take a minute to read it yourself.  You won't regret it!  And let's get rid of those Doesn't Count Lists!

While you're blog surfing, surf by my cousin's blog at What's Gotta Be Said.  He has a lot of good thoughts that will enrich your day and maybe even your life.

The Lord is My Conductor

We're doing some housecleaning today, binding up old school work for storage, throwing out old papers that don't need to be kept.  In the process I came across an old notebook that I used when I worked at camp many years ago.  In that notebook was something we did in our staff devotions one day.  We were to re-write Psalm 23 using an analogy other than that of a shepherd and sheep.  It was kind of fun so I thought I'd share it here.  I may have to get my kids to do this in the fall...

1.   The Lord is my Conductor, I shall not go out of tune.

2.  He makes me to rest while others play; He leads me through the fingering of difficult pieces.

3.  He restoreth my tone and leads me through complicated key signatures.

4.  Though my reeds may break and my lips give out, I will not become frustrated; for You will always give me a strong beat; Thy reeds and Thy staff will comfort me.

5.  Thou preparest an overture for me in the presence of my critics.  Thou anointest my valves with oil, my slide will always be slick, and my bell will always resound.

6.  Surely delightful tones will be with me always; and I will play the Lord's symphony forever!

Indian Fried Rice - a taste of nostalgia

I had to use up the leftovers tonight.  But, as is so often the case, there wasn’t enough of anything to make a meal.  I had some carrot soup to use up (easy because the kids all love it) and some rice.  I have no onions (forgot to put them on the grocery list last week) and very little else to add.  I didn’t want to cook hot dogs because the kids had those yesterday for lunch. 

Then I got an idea.  As Dr. Suess would say, I got a horrible, awful idea!  When I was growing up we occasionally had a meal from a box.  Today the only box meal we keep in the cupboard is Kraft Dinner, but back in my day there was Kraft Dinner, pizza mix, and Indian fried rice.  Guess which one was my favourite?

I looked at the rice and decided to fry it.  I dumped it into the wok and turned it on.  It would be better with onions, but I’d have to make do.  Then I went to the internet to look for a recipe.  I typed “Indian fried rice” into my google search field and got a whole list of options!

The one I used ended up tasting EXACTLY like the rice I had all those many years ago.  It was a little taste of nostalgia for me.  Unfortunately, my husband wasn’t thrilled and my son, who had to eat some because he had complained as soon as he saw the raisins in the rice, really didn’t like it, although he didn’t complain again.  One problem was that I was distracted half way through the cooking, so I didn’t turn the burner down when I should have, so too much of the water boiled off, leaving the fresh rice I had added a little on the chewy side.  Cooking the rice better next time will make this dish that much better.

But I still enjoyed it.  And in a pinch I will use it again.  Only in a pinch because I seem to be the only one who’s particularly excited about this recipe!  But in case there are others out there who want Indian fried rice in a box without the box, I thought I’d share the recipe.  It comes from a website called cooks.com.

I did not have almonds, so added some ground almonds for a hint of flavour.  Other than that, I made it pretty much as written, except I used leftover rice with a little fresh brown rice added in.

Indian Fried Rice

1 cup uncooked rice
1 small onion, chopped
1/3 cup butter
½ cup raisins (light or dark – I like light in this recipe)
2 tsp instant chicken bouillon
1 tsp curry powder (I accidentally added 2 and it was good.)
½ tsp salt
2 ¼ cup boiling water
¼ cup toasted slivered almonds

Cook and stir the rice and onion in the butter in a large skillet. Cook until the rice is yellow and the onion is tender. Stir in the raisins, bouillon, curry powder, and salt. Add the water and stir. Cook over low heat until the liquid is absorbed. This can be put in a casserole dish and put in the oven at 350 degrees for 25 to 30 minutes to absorb the liquid. The almonds can be toasted on a paper plate in the microwave. Stir in the almonds when ready to serve. This is tasty with chicken or lamb.