I almost didn't write this post.  You see, tomorrow I go to the cardiologist where I pray he tells me that my initial symptoms were viral related which sent me to my chair and then when the virus had passed through my system I was so weakened by just sitting around all day for three and some odd weeks, my body kept fighting to get me normal.  I further expect (or hope anyway) him to say that I am to go home, slowly begin exercise, and resume my normal life.  I really want to hear him say that I need to try, at least for a week, to move as much as possible, rest until my heart/lungs resume normal and then get right back upon that hor- um, off of that chair!  This is my dream, my prayer, my hope- Ok, ok, I admit... this is my WHINE.

So, I wasn't going to write this.  After all, if I am going to be out of the chair as of tomorrow afternoon, I don't need to think about the topic of this blog.  Oh, I didn't mention the topic now did I?  Ok, the subtitle for this blog is...

How to fill your time productively and serve your family lovingly from the confines of a recliner.

Yep.  That's the topic of this blog.  I am writing, in order to remind myself that my life can't sit on hold indefinitely, a list of things that one can do when one can hardly move around the house.  I am writing this list tonight so that tomorrow, if for some horrible reason God doesn't answer my prayer in the affirmative, I  have no excuse to sit around and mope any longer. 

So... I posted on Hearth Keepers today and asked for ideas.  I was really hoping to get some amazing ideas that I hadn't thought of yet  but alas, most were things that I had.  This isn't due to any amazing brilliance on my part, you understand.  Whereas these industrious ladies have spent the last three weeks going about their normal routines, I've sat around the house waiting for a chance to do that.  What a waste of three weeks of my life!  No more!  I shall conquer this in one form or another.  If I am to be resigned to this chair for an undetermined period of time, I want it to be meaningful, productive, interesting, or at least less than soporific.

Activities for a Rich Life as an Arm Chair Critic Resident

Computer Activities

• Edit the numerous novels awaiting my inexorable editing muse.
• Finish one or more of the several novels awaiting their riviting conclusion.
• Organize the thousands of digital pictures tossed in the "shoebox" of our various computers.
• Create digital scrapbook pages for aforementioned pictoral evidence of our lives.
• Finish creating Braelyn's Photography website.
• Organize this blog by sorting posts in a more detailed fashion.  (Less "Daily Ramblings")
• Update the story Diaretic on my writer's blog.
• Finish my latest Blogelle post... maybe write more?
• Complete the cookbook and home school pages for Hearth Keepers
• Write childhood memory book.
• Learn more about photo editing.

Family Activities

• Plan children's fall wardrobes and buy/plan for them to make.
• Teach Jenna and Kaylene to sew.
• Finish Christmas Shopping
• Plan stockings.
• Read aloud to the children.
• Let Braelyn drive me around to get her driving hours in.
• Plan Morgann's 18th birthday party.
• Plan Morgann's graduation.
• Create a family newsletter with the kids for the Christmas cards
• ADDRESS CARDS NOW!

Household Activities

• Oversee deep cleaning of living room.
• Oversee Nolan sanding the dark spots from living room floor.
• Decorate for fall/oversee decoration
• Teach each child a different level of cooking.
• Sort through all totes with the goal of reducing by 50%
• Keep menus going and shopping regular.
• Oversee Nolan's Bathroom project to completion.
• Sell off all the eBay stuff!

School Activities

• Teach Ethan to read.
• Teach Lorna her colors.
• Make drills a daily goal.
• Finish Science early.
• Plan history for after Christmas
• Assess each child's school portfolio and plan for adjustments, improvements, and long range goals.

Hobbies

• Smock
• Hand quilt one of the many quilts waiting to be quilted.
• Crochet afghan.  (finish anyway)
• Make cool baby hat.
• Make gifts for HK moderators.
• Take up beading if necessary.

Personal Improvement

• Continue with improvement course.
• Blog about improvement course.
• Redirect my sleeping patterns.
• Create the habit of taking supplements on a regular basis.
• Create and develop a new more fulfilling routine.
• Reread every encouraging book I own.
• Learn to use a calendar and a "to-do" list effectively.

Giving

• Write notes of encouragement to everyone who needs to hear how they've blessed you.
• Plan ways to make blessing others regular as well as spontanteous.
• Get over your hatred of the phone and call those you love and tell them so.
• Remeber to bless Kevin.  He deserves more than he gets.

And of course, enjoy that grandbaby of mine when Jr. Muffin finally arrives!

I'll add to this as I think of things.  I'll try to post pictures of any progress.   Who needs to get out of the chair?  I have more than enough to keep me busy. 

I'll end with Philippians 4:11-13

Not that I speak from want, for I ave learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am.  I know how to get along with humble means and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have lerned the scret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need.  I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

.

There is a message board persona.  We've all met her.  Most of us have been her at one time or another.  Every board has one or twenty.  Let's give her a dossier of sorts.

Name:  Brunhilda Weinerbourgmaan  (aka- Hilda)

Age: 36

Sex:  Yes- um, er I mean female

Marital Status: Married

Number of children:  Five

Educational Position:  Homeschooler

Political Position:  Conservative

Religion:  When I remember.

Theological Pursuasion: First Method-ical-Bapti-costal-Assembly-Orthodox-Luthi-tarian-Mormon-Witness-Non-Denominational

Annual Income:  Not nearly enough but too much to keep track of.

Health:  NOT ANOTHER SCHOOL SUBJECT! Oh wait, you mean mine.  Yeah, I've got some somewhere.

Personal Commitments:  Do you want that in alphabetical or chronological order?

Ok, so it sounds like I exaggerate.  Unfortunately I don't.  So what does this have to do with gluttony you ask?  Isn't gluttony about eating too much?  Well, yes, it is but unfortunately you can over indulge on other things than food.

Take Hilda for example.  She posts often about her struggles with home organization, child training, and keeping on top of her responsibilities.  She's always looking for a new and better way to solve her problems whether it's a new laundry system, a week of bootcamp, or keeping the beds made.  While her children run amok, she struggles to keep their heads above water.

However, Hilda, in spite of her lack of home skills, has more on her plate than it seems.  In addition to her own home, which she confesses is ill managed, she also teaches classes at the local church, to a homeschool co-op, or to the moms at the homeschool support group.  Often, ironically enough, she teaches on organization or homemaking skills.  And she's usually very good.  The ladies who learn from her are blessed and go home and apply the excellent skills she has shared with them.

It breaks my heart though.  Hilda takes several hours out of her week to help others do what her family waits to see accomplished in their lives.  She helps others plan their school lessons while her children flounder in their own books because mom hasn't had the discipline or taken the time to actually ensure that their lessons are completed.  Or maybe she spends two hours a week teaching new moms how to train their children while her own run wild at home.  She may teach whole grain baking to eager crowds while her own family gets burgers from Mc Donalds.

Yes... she's ever learning... and teaching... but never coming to the knowledge of whatever it is that she is learning or teaching.  If we replaced that with eating what would we get.  "Ever eating but never being satisfied with food."

Gluttony.  It comes in many guises.

Did you know-

• When you don't get any exercise from basic movements you want more sleep than normal but can't sleep as much as usual?
• A racing heart is frustrating but a fluttering heart is actually uncomfortable?
• You can write 20,000 words in a day on you novel without any difficulty?
• Photo editing is less accurate at night?
• Digital Scrapbooking is fun and much more efficient than paper?  Less bulky too.
• It's easier to sleep on the couch than in bed when you can't breathe?
• Having the perfect set up for doing what you need to do isn't a guarantee that you will do it?
• There really are silver linings- you just need to love silver to appreciate them
• My husband is the world's kindest and most selfless man and I'm blessed beyond measure to have him in my life?

Have you ever read a book, watched a movie, seen a play, met a new person, or in any other way come face to face with the person you want to be?  I'm not talking about the difference between being a city girl when you dream of life in the country or visa versa.  I don't mean that you want to be someone God did not intend for you to be.  What I refer to is the realization that there are qualities or disciplines in this person's life that you've desired, or worse, known God has called you to be.  The problem is, you're not.  I can't be the only person who has ever been introduced in some fashion to the person they should be.

I just had this happen to me again recently.  It happens every now and then.  I remember the first time I was aware of it.  I'd read one of Lori Wick's books in the Rocky Mountain series.  I like two of the four books in that series but for very different reasons.  (And the other two books are worthless in my opinion.)  I love the character and storyline of Pup Jennings in To Know Her by Name.  That book never ceases to delight me but Rusty in Promise Me Tomorrow always tugs at my heart with a yearning I find it difficult to explain.  (Though I'll grant you, the book is very drippy!)

I envy her love of children.  I nearly covet the ease in which she interacts and relates to them.  That probably sounds very strange coming from a woman with nine children but I assure you, it's true.  I love the delight she has in children as people.  Her red hair and self-assurance doesn't hurt either.  ;)

I digress.  I recently saw myself in another book.  This time, the story is mine.  I am almost finished with a novel that is now a chore to finish.  Every word feels wrung from me like water drops from a half-dry dishcloth.  I don't know how I'll manage to finish it.  I see myself on every page.  Not only do I see whom I am supposed to be, I see who I am and it both frightens and disgusts me.  I think I struggle most with it because I am afraid if I finish it, I'll have to do something about what I've learned as I've written it.  I don't want to.  I like status quo.  I like it because it's easy and I am very good at easy.

The funny thing is, so much of what I am convicted about cannot be changed by actions right now.  I don't have the physical strength to do anything.  The core of the problem I can change but I don't want to.  I feel like Paul.  I don't do what I want to do, I do what I don't want to do, oh wretched woman that I am, who will save me from myself?

Why do we do that to ourselves?  Jesus already saved us from ourselves!  I'm already free.  I AM the new creature in Christ that I want to emulate in this book.  I AM.  I just don't act like it.

You know, maybe God timed things this way so that I wouldn't be able to "do".  Maybe I am supposed to sit at Jesus' feet, learn, and be.  Be still.  Know that He is God.  Repent.  Confess.  Be immersed in His Word until I stop fighting and allow it to infuse me.  Allow myself to be immersed in Jesus until that which needs changed outside of me happens as an overflow of a change from within.

Why are all the answers simple and complicated?  Simultaneously?

The nursery worker.  The song leader.  The custodian.  The Bible class teacher.  The woman who makes the communion bread.  The man who fixes the widow's car.  The missionary.  The missionary supporter.  The prayer warrior.

What do they have in common?  They're servants.  They serve the body.  In very tangible and recognized ways, these people are servants to the body of Christ.  They're all well loved, needed, and appreciated.  There are more of course.  From curriculum writers to pulpit committees, from AWANA directors to a deacon, the church is full of servants, and well it should be.

Some areas of service aren't generally recognized.  In one congregation that we attended, a woman served me in ways she never knew.  Riddled with pain and several debilitating diseases, she came, week after week, and was just THERE.  It was service to the body.  When I'm unwell, I don't want to go anywhere no matter how badly I want to BE there.  Then I remember Dena and I realize that it's not about me.  Can I go?  Will I be able to sit there?  Will I infect others?  Will I need to be taken home?  Of course with those things in the negative, I shouldn't go.  But staying home and being miserable or sitting there and being miserable is just geography.

Another woman served me at another congregation.  Diana was an example to me and I don't know if she'll ever truly realize her service to the church even though I did try to tell her a time or two.  She loved her sons.  She had such an amazing closeness to her sons.  It sooooo impressed me.  I wanted that.  I emulated anything I saw in her that I could because I saw the root of it.  She served me.  She taught me to "... love their children" by example.

There is an area in the church that I think we've gotten lazy with our service.  Women have busy lives.   We live in an instant society with expectations of instant results.  We've forgotten that service can require inconvenience.  In this one area, we really need to reconsider serving our bothers in Christ.

That last sentence probably gave away what I mean.  Modesty.  I hear it all the time. 

"It is almost impossible to find clothes that are in style and still modest"  Difficult, but not impossible.  In almost any store in the country you can find SOMETHING. 

"I shouldn't have to work so hard at just shopping for clothes."  Well whether or not you should have to isn't the issue.  The issue is that the difficulty of the task doesn't negate the need for the task. If you had to find a blanket for your brother in Christ or he'd die, woudl you  not search until you found him one no matter how long it took?

The statements and answers are numerous. Do we die to self and serve the body of Christ or do we demonstrate a lack of love because loving them in this way is too inconvenient?  It isn't impossible.  It may be difficult but it isn't imposible.

"... she is like merchant ships.  She brings her food from afar."

We can and we should serve our brothers and sisters in Christ this way. 

Please note:  I am not defining what is or isn't modest here.  I'm not saying that one particular type of clothing is immodest or not.   I would hope that it would be obvious that clothing that looks painted on, shows cleavage, most of the thigh and/or part of the rear is generally inappropriate for a Christian to wear.  Some consider slacks and jeans still showing the rear and/or thigh, others don't.  I'm not going to play the game.  What one of my daughters can wear with absolute decency, another of my girls cannot. 

In popular children's fantasy fiction, there is a fascinating item called a pensive.  It looks like a typical tabletop bird bath but inside is a swirling mass of liquid silver "threads".  These threads are actually memories, preserved and stored in the pensive for our perusal at some later date.  I think part of the point of the pensive was to give the person an accurate history of events.  Time tends to blur them, rearrange facts, and sometimes leave out important parts of our memories.  The pensive would have them all accurately stored for your remembrance.

When a person wanted to relive a memory, he'd put his face down into the liquid and "fall into" the memory.  He'd be immersed in it so to speak.  The sights, sounds, and feelings of the memory would be vivid and real.  He couldn't interact in the memory.  This event has happened and is now over.  However, in the pensive, one could "relive" the moment whether it was your memory or someone else's. 

I was sharing about this with a friend of mine this evening.  She'd made the comment that she wished she could wrap her arms around someone we know to be struggling and just infuse them with the love of God.  That somehow through the hug, she'd be able to let them see how God knows and loves them.  She admitted it wasn't possible but that it'd be nice.  I immediately thought of the pensive.  How wonderful it would be if, in a moment when our human frailty overtook us, if we could simply fall into the "pensive" and not only know God's love for us, not only know God's delight in us as His children, but feel it; infuse it into our hearts and lives because we are seeing it from His point of view.

Of course, that was a silly thing to say.  As much as we tend to forget it, we do have a pensive.  We have the Word.   Our Father, Lord, and Intercessor has infused all the love and sacrifice for us into the Bible.  It is all there.  The Word is full of the Lord's provision for His people.  There are verses of stern admonition just as we all have memories of a father's stern rebuke when we did what we knew was wrong.  There are verses of delight.  One such verse I missed as a young girl.  We sang it at school.

Zephaniah 3:17:

KJV: The LORD thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.

I focused on the MIGHTYness of God.  I also recoginzed the love.  I didn't notice the delight and the joy and the rejoicing over His people.  This wasn't made clear to me until the late nineties by Beverly Bradley of Family Ministries.  He will... "rejoice over thee with joy"  That's like twice the joy there.  ReJOYce... and then with JOY.  WOAH.  The Lord delights in us.  That is just amazing. 

Another song we sang was from Revelation 4:11

KJV:	Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created.

We were created for His pleasure.  At the end of creation, when God finished each thing, He said, "and it was good."  But when man finally stood living and breathing in the very image of God, He said, "And it was very good."  I don't think that very was an extraneous word to keep the text from being too redundant.  I do that in my writing but I really don't think God needs to, do you?

Then, there is Song of Solomon.  While I firmly believe this is intended to bless us as people who marry and commit ourselves physically, mentally, and emotionally to our spouses, I know that it is also symbolic.  I understand the symbolism of Christ and his Bride.  The delight that Solomon shows in the Shulamite woman is marvelous.  It's a little uncomfortable for my Western ears.  I confess to finding the thought of teeth like sheep pretty disgusting as a romantic overture.  After all, who wants fuzzy teeth!  Brush those pearly whites! 

Now, lest I appear to think we should walk about full of ourselves in our greatness, let me be clear.  We're worms.  We're but walking dust.  Apart from Christ and His blood, we are like menstrual rags as Isaiah so vividly puts it.  How gross can you get?  However, thanks to another kind of blood... the sacrificial purifying blood of the Lamb of God, we are His chosen.  His beloved.   Isn't that the most wonderful thing ever?  It just amazes me.

It's all in the "pensive" of the Bible.  It's all in there.  Every last little bit.  We can see the love and care that the Lord has for us.  We can feel the everlasting arms around us as we grow weary.  We can know from our minds to our hearts, to our feet that run to Him who receives all the cares we cast upon Him... we are beloved.  He delights in us.  He rejoices over us.  He alone is worthy but we were created FOR His pleasure!  Hallelujah!  (That old pentecostal streak likes to try to escape every now and again!)

I think that sometimes we need to view the Bible with fresh eyes.  Not because it lacks anything.  It doesn't.  The Word of God is complete for every thing that we need.  However, we're weak.  We're fallen.  And sometimes we need to view things from a different perspective before we can truly see how they are. 

I think it's time that I "fell into" the pensive of the Word.  I could use an infusion of the Lord's perspective.  I think I've allowed my faulty one darken my perspective for too long.  Once again.  That is one habit I'd be happy to break.  It is interesting to me to realize that in so much of my Christian walk, immersion into some part of Jesus is crucial.

What do these have in common?  I can't stand any of them.  Especially Baseball.  I promised in this blog an expose of my opinions on baseball so here it is in all of its boring glory.  Pun intended.

Ok, so you go to a ballgame.  You order the nasty dogs, grab some salted peanuts which are only sold to convince you to purchase an overpriced drink, and you sit and wait.

And wait.

Shift in your seat.

And wait.

Then, someone who can't sing, or who can but is possessed by the erroneous idea that our National Anthem must be sung as terribly as possible in order to stick to some unwritten law, stands and butchers the Star Spangled Banner.  Add more vibratto here.

Then you sit again.  At least your bum is circulating again.  No worries, it'll be numb again soon.  I promise.

Finally, the first pitch is thrown.  This is probably the most interesting thing that will happen for a long time.  Make sure you don't miss it.  Then again, it's only ceremonial so don't get too excited.  

So now they warm up.  They stretch, they scratch, they pound their glove with a ball. 

Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.

Finally a guy leaves the dugout.  Oh boy.  We might see some action.  Please note that in a basketball game by this time, there has been at least a few points made.  Probably by both sides.  Yes, I have ADD.  Baseball proves it.

So the guy grabs a bat.  Tosses it aside and grabs another one.  He then grabs another one.  Apparently he can't hit so he needs two to make sure he gets that ball.  Like the umpire won't stop him.   Yep, he throws one aside.  He looks mad.  Can't blame him.  Two bats are better than one I always say.  Maybe he's got bad eyesight.  Probably. 

So, he stands at the plate.  He shifts.  He raises the bat.  He shifts again.  The catcher scratches himself.   The pitcher nods.  He winds.  He spins.  He throws to second base. 

WHY DID HE DO THAT!  The first ball hasn't been hit yet!  Sheesh!

Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.  Except for the second base part. 

So then, finally... a ball passes plate.  The guy didn't swing. 

"BALL"

Ok, at this point, we've been sitting in the stand 45 minutes at the very least, the first pitch was twenty minutes ago, and we still haven't even had a hit or a strike!

Finally, after two more balls and a strike, the guy hits the ball.

"FOUL BALL"

Ok, so.  This is why I hate baseball.  It is the most tedious, boring, inane game to watch.  However, I will say, it is more fun to play.    Oh, and I love that seventh inning stretch!

Nelly Kelly the baseball dame

Knew the players knew all their names

You could see her there every day

Shout horray.  while they play.

Her boyfriend by the name of Joe.

Said to Coney Isle dear we'll go.

Nelly started to fret and pout,

And to him I heard her shout, HEY!

Take me out to the ballgame

Take me out to the crowd

Buy me some peanuts and Cracker  Jacks (I thnk she was angling for a prize ring and a proposal myself)

I don't care if I never get back

Let me root, root, root for the home team.

If they don't win it's a shame.

For it's one, two, three strikes you're out

At the old, ball game!

I was looking at some of my kids clothes the other day.  I've never been one to hang onto things for sentimental reasons.  I've not been someone who passes hand me downs down until they are threadbare and just down right ugly.  I'm a fresh and new  kind of gal.

However, sometimes even in their closets I forget that just because I made it this season and I really like it, and it is SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo cute doesn't mean that it isn't tatty.  I see it as it looked the first time my child wore it.  I see it in all the adorable glory that it once had.  Have you ever done that?  Your oldest daughter had a favorite dress.  Maybe it was bubblegum pink sprinkled with little white flowers and yellow centers.  There was a crisp white collar trimmed in pretty lace.  She loved that dress.  She'd have worn it every Sunday (and Monday through Saturday too) if you would have allowed her to.  However, as all favorite dresses do, this one grew too short.  It hit mid-knee cap and then the top of the knee.  Fortunately winter was almost there so it worked to pack it away. 

A second daughter grew tall enough to wear it a year or two later.  How exciting it was to pull out that beloved dress.  Big sis talked about how much she'd loved it and marvelled at how it now hit her thighs like a long shirt.  Again, the daughter wore the dress as often as she could.  She to loved the happy flowers and developed her own special memories of the dress.  The day daddy took just her out for ice cream after church.  The birthday party where she got to bust open the pinata.  And after a while, mom realized that it was becoming a smidge worn and maybe could be worn for an "every day" dress now that there were other clothes to wear to church.  As it did before, the dress eventually became too short as the daughter grew.

Another daughter grows tall enough for it.  Maybe it's been a year or two or maybe there was a brother or two in between those girls.  The big sisters go though the clothin boxes with mom and pull out their favorite dress.  They're so excited to see that it finally fits their little sister.  They put it on her.  It's so cute!  She wears it.   And wears it.  And wears it.  Mom and sisters see the dress through nostalgic glasses.  They see a bubblegum pink dress with white daisies and yellow centers.  They see a crisp white collar with pretty lace.  It's a perfect length just two inches below the knee.  Long enough for modesty but short enough to make the style perfect. 

Dad comes home from work one day and sees his precious little girl bound up to him.  For the first time, he sees the dress on his daughter as others do.  The pink is pale and dingy.  The fabric is threadbare.  The collar isn't crisp and only faintly resembles the bright white it once did.  The lace is tatty and torn in places.  The pretty flowers look wilted and greyed.  They aren't so pretty anymore.  He doesn't remember the dress.  Like many men, he doesn't know what clothes his children have or don't have.  He knows his family just got home from an outing and wonders why his wife is allowing their child to run around town looking like a street urchin of days gone by.  It takes the fresh eyes of someone who doesn't have those rose (or bubble gum pink in this instance) colored glasses to show the ladies in his family exactly how worn and ugly the dress has become.

So much of our life is like that isn't it?  We don't see that the wear and tear of the years has made our homes look abused or neglected.  We don't realize how limp our hair is from lack of attention.  We don't see the effect of cobwebs on our brains until we are faced with a real crisis in knowledge.  We quit ironing years ago.  Our clothes prove it.  Maybe we quit takign care of our skin, our teeth, our wardrobe, or our heart.  Is your heart suffering from neglect?  Have you taken time to clothe it with the mantle of Scripture?  Are your sheets holely or you curtains filthy?  Is your white shower curtain orange? 

Do we see life as it is, as we want it to be, or do we still see it as it once was?  Is our bubble gum pink dress crisp and fresh, or have we let it get faded, threadbare, and limp?  Is it time to let those old favorites go and find a few new favorites?

There is an article circulating amongst homeschoolers that discuss the rates in which some homeschooled children are 'abandoning ship'.  It makes some very good points.  One of the points it makes is that many families are on their family ship and instead of having a destination, they're just moored off shore.  Yes, it is away from the temptations and evils of port but what kind of life and existence is it for the children?  They need a destination.  A goal.  Life is about more than avoiding evil.  Life is to be lived!

This made me think of the mid-life crises that men are well known for having.  A man wakes up one morning, walks out on his wife and children, buys a sports car, and takes off on a cross-country road trip with a cute blonde bombshell.  Meanwhile everyone is in shock.  Now "godly homeschool fathers" may not do this.  I've noticed that instead they sometimes become irritable, nervous about money, often becoming fascinated with online gaming with their big game systems, and similar things.  They're faithful to their wives and don't break the bank but they stil do go to an extreme.  Women lose weight, or get a part time job, start baking bread or quit baking bread.  It seems like they want CHANGE with capital letters and many exclamation points.

I wonder, however, if it isn't a similar problem across the board.  Kids jump ship because they don't see that their family is going anywhere.  They don't see a goal, a dream, or any reason to keep plugging along.  They wake up in the morning and their goal for the day is simply not to be sullied by the world.  Whoop-dee-doo.  If you aren't in a position where the world can sully you, this isn't much of a job.  Take pot shots at the occasional flounder that attempts to jump IN the ship and scrub off a bit of sea gull doo and your day is complete.  What a glorious life.  Blech.

Don't get me wrong, days like that are BLESSINGS in the lives of people who are docked in the harbor and mingle in and out of the world on a daily basis.  They need days where the worst they  have to do is swab the deck or scrape a barnacle or two from the hull.  As a diversion from a busy life full of work and striving toward whatever goal it is, occasional maintenance days are a reprieve.

But they have a goal.  Whatever it is, they have a goal.  It might be simple, or it could be complex.  It doesn't matter really, but if every day is just something to be survived and that alone is the success, ittwon't work.  Not in our country.  Life isn't about basic survival here in America.  Life is about dominion in a different realm.  We're here to take the world for Christ.  We're here to be a balm on the hurting masses around us.  We're here to DO and BE.  We're not here to tread water.

And I think this is the problem.  I think we've got families of water treaders.  Sometimes the children get a vision.  Whether it is for a business, a ministry, or  hobby doesn't really matter.  Kids are resilient and adapatable.  Many times, if given half a chance, they'll create their own vision.  I'm thinking of the moms right now.  Yes, the original tale was about the droves of chidlren 'jumping ship'.  But what about moms?  Why are moms burned out?  Why are moms so very depressed?  Why is it that so many wives and mothers are on a hampster wheel wearing out and never getting anywhere?

Is it because we've lost our vision?  Do we need a reminder of the GOAL?  Do we need something besides the here and now to get us through the here and now?  Is it possible that in the middle of changing diapers, scrubbing toilets, doing dishes, and listening to the sputtering monotone of a beginning reader we need something more than just bed time to get us through the afternoon? 

What is our goal?  I'd say we all have different ones.  Some might be a brighter future for their children.  Some might be a heart for the lost or a haven amongst the lost of this worl.  It can be a million different things but if another day under our belt is all we have going for us, we'll eventually quit.  Mentally, physically, or emotionally, we'll quit.  We can't keep up an unsatisfying lifestyle forever.  Eventually we have to rise above and do more.

What is the "more" that you need to do?  Do you need to learn something new?  Conquer an old habit?  Remember the GOAL amid the trenches?  What is it?  I imagine that if you have bad days like the rest of us, there is probably something missing.  Either you need to prune the extraneous to make time for the important, or you need to set goals so that you have tangible evidence for the finish line.  Who wants to run a 500 mile race and not have a clue how many miles you've conquered!  We need to feel the sweet victory that comes with success.

We all do.  Even moms.

A page turns.  The glossy pictures, airbrushed to perfection, appeal tantalizingly to the senses.  Lust grows in the heart and mind of the observer.  Page after page of images imbed themselves in the reader's mind.   They will not easily leave.  Long after the magazine is rotting at the bottom of a pile, those images will burn more than just the heart.

Escape into a fantasy world.  Perfection is achieved on every front.  The longer one lingers, the deeper the desire for the impossible.  The lingering gaze at the perfect woman.  The deep desire for the forbidden grows in the heart of the fantasizer.  Just a few more stolen minutes before reality crushes a dream world.

Dissatisfaction.  Impatience.  Irritation.  Reality encroaches on the idyllic.  Anger seethes under the surface.

Pornography.  No, not the stuff of the Heffner empire.  I am not writing of 'pornea' in the strictest sense.  I am writing of the coveteousnes of homeschooling women.  The deep desire for what we do not have, and often for what we cannot have is the 'baptized' version of pornography for 'good godly women'. 

How many times has the Vision Forum catalog appeared in a home.  The harried homeschooling mother takes the catalog and puts her feet up for ten minutes as she thumbs through the pages.  Beautifully dressed children, perfect women, and godly men who surely never leave their dirty socks on the couch grace the pages.  There is no laundry piled in the hamper.  There is no hamper.  The children smile and eagerly work on their lessons while a perfectly coiffed and manicured mother beams beatifically at them as she pulls a pie from the oven.

Mom ignores the unfinished lessons, the pile of bills, and the fact she hasn't brushed her own hair yet, and imagines a world where her husband instinctively knows her emotional needs and meets them before they wound her spirit.  Her children delight in serving her and she, in her spiritual and emotional maturity is a tender and gentle nurturer.  Her husband boasts her praises to all who will listen.  Her children feel sorry for anyone who does not have 'their' mother.  Somehow, she tends a garden, grows wheat, bakes bread, keeps house, teaches school, and takes meals to anyone in need while wearing a white dress sewn from a Sensibility pattern in her spare time one afternoon.

Reality returns with a vengance.  Dinner isn't started, the children are wearing stained pajamas, and you can't see the floor for the Rice Krispies that the baby scattered. 

Another hand turns a page.  A heart races.  Desires grow.  Each moment that lingers creates a magnetic pull nearly impossible to resist.

The magazine enflames a smoldering desire.  Families of seven, eight, twelve, and even fourteen children smile back from the pages.  Beckoning.  A glance across the room at four squabbling children creates a longing.  No more children.  He's so selfish.  The deam of a large and godly family overwhelms the reader until she is lost in her own dream world.

Eight perfect children serve the Lord in song.  Squabbles are a distant memory.  With new babies came new love and appreciation for one another.  Her husband beams with pride as their sons serve their daughters.  She feels that private smile of contentment shine on her face as her daughters serve their sons with appreciative devotedness.   The baby wails.  Their children lovingly encourage him to 'hush and meet his needs joyfully.

The baby screams bringing her back to reality.  Her filthy house, disobedient children, and lack of motivation press down on her.  She wants the dream.  She needs the dream.  If she only had another baby it might happen for her. 

How many homeschooling mothers have received this year's crop of curricula catalogs only to feel that tugging dissatisfaction.  They see the glowing testimonials of perfect results and envy invades their hearts.  If only her husband would let her do unit studies.  The children would flourish if they could take a more active role in their education.  Oh, if he would only help them.  Become involved.  Oh they could be a model homeschooling family if they only had...

Let's be honest with ourselves.  How many hours do we spend each week (or day!) gazing at catalogs that feed our desires, reading books by families who have (at least in our minds) achieved the perfection we so desperately seek, researching new techniques, ideas, and products to create a world of educational bliss.  What is reality while we do this?   While we create a home centered utopia of homeschooled, home birthed, home grown, home baked, home churched homebodies in our mind, what is our real life like?

We decry the effect of pornography in the world today but do we ignore our own covetous 'porn' and fantasy world?  Do we forget that one can lust after perfection, beauty, and emotional fulfillment just as much as we can lust after the flesh?