This Christmas

     This morning my "memories" reminded me that three years ago, I was invited to celebrate Christmas with the 6 month old twins that I had only seen a handful of times. By the look on my face, you could tell I was desperately grateful... and desperately tired from the tsunami that hit our family that year. 

     I really didn't have anything to give so I printed out relevant scripture for each one and framed it. And h.o.p.e. Ministries is the only reason the kids at home got anything. Here is a post about it that I never published or completed: https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/5869496433102770626/5864514521123043544. They helped once more the following year as we were reunited and waiting on Mike's Social Security Disability to be approved. 

     Last year, while everyone else was in dire financial straits, Jeremiah and Megan were on the road "raking it in" and made sure everyone got a little something by way of the Saran Wrap Ball game. I struggle with the emphasis on gifts at Christmas; nevertheless, I didn't want Macklynn and Madalynn to become takers rather than givers. So, we devised ideas for each sibling household that would be specifically from them. They paid $20 of Melody and Miranda's power bill. They cleaned Michael's car inside and out. They bought Timothy and McKala a gift card to go on a date. And they bought Megan a gift card for a manicure, and we gave Jeremiah some Kohl's cash. 

     This year the adult kids drew names. It has been another lean one, and I thought it'd be good to get Melody's truffle recipe and have the kids make batches for everyone. Lo and behold, Madalynn came down with a cold last weekend and Macklynn started coming down with it yesterday. So, even that hasn't worked out. However, as we were all gathered together yesterday, we found that the sisters had decided to buy gifts for everyone, just the way Michael did three years ago. 

     So, we shift. No one expects anything. In return, it always works out; Michael made that observation last night. We don't have particular traditions, and I hope it stays that way, that everyone remains thankful for whatever comes, like the little job Mike and I have picked up delivering cars to and from auctions, which provided in the nick of time the ability to buy everyone something from the Carhartt store and to put three or four gifts for Macklynn and Madalynn under the tree.

    Madalynn asked on the way home, during the "search for snow" ride Mike took us on (and found), if the presents left under the tree were for the two of them. She said it was a lot. And I know that it's not, but that she is so grateful for so little breaks my heart and lets me know that through everything they have learned so much. 

A Baby Changes Everything

                                                         

          

     "Mary, Did You Know?" is a favorite Christmas song. Every time I hear it though, I say to myself, "Of course, she knew." Luke 1:46-55, otherwise known as the Magnificat, is a "song" that begins with Mary's saying, "My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. For he hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden: for, behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. For he that is mighty hath done to me great things; and holy is his name." 

     So, I prefer the song, "A Baby Changes Everything." 

     Today was Megan's last day of work for good. Their first baby is due in 10 more weeks, and she is preparing to endeavor on the full-time work that solely belongs to her, the mother of her new baby girl. Now 30, Megan's been working hard since she was 16 years old. I've rarely gotten to spend much time with her since, so I love that they are living nearby and that it just so happens that I see her daily sometimes.

     Tomorrow begins the era of her not making her "own money," relying on Jeremiah to provide for her and their baby. They might do without. Her sister did, if living in America can qualify for that; they had just one car for a while - she got up in the mornings and took him to work if she needed to go somewhere. They didn't and still don't have a dishwasher. And there were many other things they did without that I'm sure I don't know about.  

     But everything "done without" is transposed into irreplaceable moments and opportunities because "A Baby Changes Everything." 

     

     

If It's Not One Thing, It's Another

     I have hundreds and hundreds of pages of words I've put to paper. I still am in the process of submitting before the Lord in what order they should be, what conclusions should be made, and what perspective should be used. In the meantime, I still have rushes of thoughts that bring me back here, blogging. 

     Because I have not severed my relationship with Facebook (although I have recently written all the names and information of "friends" I want to stay in touch with when I do), I was scrolling through and saw some things I didn't know. It reminded me to count my blessings, all seven of  "them." Infertility and miscarriages are things I know nothing of. But I do know something of the difficulties of marriage. I said recently that perhaps God gave me the ease of childbearing knowing that marriage would not be so.

     I had another conversation recently about vaccinations. And for some reason, I thought of our collard green patch. It had caterpillars up until it got really cold; not only do they eat away the leaves, they might wind up on a plate. We could spray the plants, but it's easy enough to wash the leaves in the sink. Regardless, we had collard green trouble, and now they will probably die soon given a stay of freezing temperatures. We do not live in a perfect world. Period. 

     I know that my profile picture for this blog site needs to be updated so I'm working on the damage that I've sustained and have allowed to change my appearance and health. My hair is growing again. I'm glad for the hair I have. Again, I consider it a blessing, God knowing how awful the veins on my legs would be. 

     We just never know what we're gonna get. One person's child dies; another one's wants to die. These kinds of situations are what "I can do all things" is about. I read this morning, "He that handleth a matter wisely shall find good: and whoso trusteth in the LORD, happy is he" (Proverbs 16:20). It's not always that we don't trust God but that we don't trust ourselves and won't ask to made like Him, only that our circumstances be made easier. There is perceived difficulty in every choice and every encounter until we decide that God knows best and hears our prayers when we repent and answers them according to His own wisdom and pleasure.  

Divergence

     We're on a roll today getting things done in and out of the house, so I hate to stop just to write. But my head is writing for me. When it happens, it comes to me; I don't go looking for it. I've been lying low on the election results and still hope for a particular outcome. However, it shouldn't have even been close! Over 70% of Americans claim to be Christians, although that's down from 85% in the 90s. So to me, this just got personal, maybe not like you think, though. It's time to put up a new flag. Don't get me wrong, not long before the election we replaced our tattered Trump flag with a new one. But it's time to be put out a Christian flag and get to doing the groundwork that we should have already been busy with. This all is about influence, and if we have none in our personal lives then we can't expect it in our political ones.                    

     There are a lot of issues at play, but the one I hear above all others is abortion. Here is where I'm going to diverge from the majority of conservative, Christian women, and if this makes our paths part then sobeit. I can't afford to consider feelings, especially when I, like Christ, mean to save not condemn. We have lost regard for the blessings of the womb, instead holding our wombs hostage from the Lord and to the number of children we think will be convenient for our families. I'm not talking about killing babies; I'm talking about never conceiving them to start with. I can say with resolve that the seven children I had were for the Lord. As I have written previously, I was never a "natural" at things home and family. If every professing Christian family devoted their lives to the command of fruitfulness and raised the resulting fruit accordingly, the gridlock in our nation would not be possible. The numbers would speak for themselves.

      Mom, who can't have any more children, all I ask is that you join me in a new way of thinking, in a new way of counseling our young women as Titus 2 commands. It's not for us to tell our girls or anyone else's to do what makes them happy when Biblical happiness is defined as fearing and following the Lord. I'm not interested in all the excuses of why this can't be done. As my favorite verse says, "Commit thy works unto the Lord, and thy thoughts shall be established" (Proverbs 16:3). That's totally opposite of today's psychology of figuring it out then making a plan. Set your heart to obey, and God always works out the rest. 

     While you're rethinking family, rethink buying the products and entertainment that provide dark influence. Stop wearing their clothes; stop listening to their music; stop watching their shows; and stop getting your education from them. I, for one, have determined that since my children still have the opportunity in America to "play" to earn a college education and/or a living that I will support nothing less than it be for the Lord in music or in sport at a Christian college or in a Christian environment. 

     Don't confuse this with having an impact on society. Although I do take seriously that our daughter play only Christian music and that our son play football only for a Christian college, I also take seriously that as they have encounters with nonbelievers in their daily lives they do not, "become undercover Christians or rabbit-hole Christians. Rabbit-hole Christians pop their heads out only when they must. Their only contacts with the world are mad dashes to and from Christian activities. They live with the unspoken motto, 'The less contact with non-Christians the better the day.' They pop out to get in the car to run their Christian kids to the Christian school. They listen to their Christian radio, run off to their Christian Bible study, then go to lunch with their Christian friend. After dinner they pop out to visit their Christian friends for Christian fellowship," as described by the "Evangelism Is" book I read on the plane.

      All this "activity" is well and good, but then how do we follow the directions of Paul in Timothy 2:24-26, "And the servant of the Lord must not strive but be gentle to all men, apt to teach, patient, in meekness instructing those that opppose themselves; if God peradventure will give them repentance to the acknowleding of the truth; and that they may recover themselves out of the snare of the devil, who are taken captive by him at his will." First off, I can say "hanging out" with them would not be Jesus' answer nor did he "hang out" with sinners as people conveniently subscribe to. He ate with and talked with people who genuinely wanted to know about Him. Secondly, we have to make enough margin in our errands and routines that we let God brush us into people. And that's how we influence our communities, not by arguing with people we don't or barely know on social media. 

     We need to "assemble" ourselves back together and move forward no matter the political outcome. There is ground to take today in our own backyards.

Grit, Get Some

The real problem that people have with Trump is that he’s a man, a real man. I don’t mean that he’s always right or that he’s always genteel. I mean he calls it like he sees it. Last year in a unexpected conversation, I told a teacher that Trump's a man of grit. Would we send a pale-faced, fragile man out to fight the wolves? Such was David, one whom every time I read of I become frustrated with and enthralled with all at the same time. But who are we to judge the actions of a great man who believed his sin was in secret and now is revealed to the whole world, when in true confession he said to God, "Against thee, thee only, haved I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight: that thou mightest be justified when thou speakest, and be clear when thou judgest" (Psalm 51:4). Who are we to be taken aback by such grave doings? I, for one, am not. I know that I am capable of and have been guilty of some of the very same sins. Do not harshly judge and dismiss a person for a fall to temptation for a temptation you’ve never been in a position to have. Back to Trump though …our country, being in a fiscal battle, needed a man of skill, a man with experience not a man of lofty ideals. Such were the differences between Thomas Jefferson and George Washington. Washington spoke of trusting and following God into battle while Jefferson created his own bible negating all the foundational, miraculous deeds of Christ. The other day I told Mike that in personality he falls somewhere between President Donald Trump and drag racing legend, John Force! The truth is that the majority of the time I don’t like his tone and sometimes not his even purposes. But something I’ve learned is that on every major decision for where to live, how to educate, where to work, where to worship, and with whom to associate; he’s been right. Pure and simple. I have a marriage that has to be managed the way Esther did. It doesn’t really matter what I like and don’t; I have to remember to only come to him with the big things, managing smaller things myself. Funny that I fathomed in a post two summers ago how in his poor health he and I would live a new life of collaboration: cooking, shopping, and teaching together. Ha! He’s still a man’s man, and it may kill him, but he’ll go down swinging. A difference between Esther and me is wealth. Every day including yesterday is a decision of survival. The Impala finally went back. He bought it while he was still working prior to his heart failure diagnosis and has held onto it firmly all this time as a means to keep a good credit score in hopes of home ownership again one day. He’s tried everything legal under the sun to get rid of it before now. Megan’s selling her Jeep came just in the nick of time, albeit a couple of months earlier than she intended, so that’s what you’ll see me trolling around town in. This week holds other hard “issues.” Our neighbors have grown so fond of one of our dogs that they’ve all but claimed him, luring him with food and providing him with bedding and shelter. I’ve been biting my tongue and cooperating for a year. Last night, I couldn’t do it anymore after she confessed that she had fed him and intended to shelter him for the night after I specified that she not. Today also, we have to deal with the actions of a teammate of one of our kids. People are so used to everyone rolling over that they do and say whatever they want. No fear, no respect, no regard – a thankless generation. Harpers ain’t rollin’ over. We’ve managed to get some grit. You should get some, too.

Hello, Little One

     Hello, little one. Your daddy and mama are among the most giving people I know. Last Christmas alone they supplied funds toward a snow blower and stove to Papa Mark and Gramma Miish.  And now for us, they have provided an all expenses paid trip to Alaska all the way from North Carolina: flight, food, car, cabin, and even a suitcase for me, Mamachelle, and Extra Tuffs for Papa Mike. 

     This trip was in lieu of the one planned for Papa Mike to tour the Western US with Mama and Daddy. I think Mama, with you on the way, wanted to do what could potentially be Papa's last big trip, considering the condition his health is in. Little did she know that Alaska instead would be the "hoorah," not necessarily the "last" but one that can never be replicated.

     Getting there was hard for your mama. She got a migraine on the second flight of the three it took to get there. The first night we all four stayed in the room together at a hotel in Anchorage. The drive to Soldotna, your daddy's hometown, was cloudy and foggy. But then it all lifted for the rest of the 12 days! Upon arrival at Papa Mark and Gramma Miish's, a favorite meal of your daddy's, fried fish and sushi, was soon underway and then something I've never done, the "processing" of a moose, which went on for days actually. 

     We were introduced that same afternoon to our "cabin," a mini-cabin really, which was perfectly charming to me but quite tight for Papa Mike! I thought I'd give him the bigger bed, which happened to be the one in the loft. His cumbersome descent gave me one of the biggest laughs I've ever had in my whole life. Of course, we switched. 

     When, in the night, I had to make a mad dash for the glorified outhouse, the charm suddenly turned to alarm. I had seen pictures of the wildlife that roam the property. So, I added a new level of thanks to my prayers each time I got back in my bed unharmed!

     Papa Mark and Gramma Miish, and your Aunts Neakita, Alaina, and Katelyn gave us the grand tours of both Homer and Seward, port cities surrounded by strikingly beautiful waters speckled with colorful boats against the back drop of nothing less than glaciers! 

     We were totally unprepared for another trip we got to take! A fellow church member of theirs, Jim, took us up in his plane while Papa Mark flew in the co-pilot's seat. Papa Mike and I sat in the second row, with Mama and Daddy in the back. Just because we all had headsets did not mean that I understood what all was about to take place. We flew over the oil rigs and along the coastline of the national park. It wasn't clear to me that we planned to land anywhere until we were practically on the beach, a beach where the only residents were wild. I wasn't anywhere nearly as interested as everyone else in exploring, regardless of the scenery that leaves one breathless. The discovery of bear AND wolf tracks confirmed my suspicions. I was relieved when Papa Mark revealed that he was "packing" a formidable weapon. Then, and ONLY then was I comfortable enjoying our picnic of sandwiches and salmon dip. 

     Our exit was not as smooth as our entry, and I was to the point of tears with excitement before I even knew that we barely missed the waterline before take-off. And that was after we got stuck in the sand and had to dig out the plane!

     As we went on down the coast, we finally found the prize, grizzly bears digging for clams in the muddy inlets. Jim flew us low to see all that we could, just as he did through the mountain range and into the "bowl" where the glacier lay and where your mama still fighting morning sickness, a pilot herself, gave up the contents of her stomach to the turbulent flight. 

     The intermittent events at Papa Mark and Gramma Miish's led to more significant happenings than these. We had game night, and there was a party for Daddy where lots of family friends came to celebrate his birthday! But there was a Sunday afternoon meal that made the whole trip take on new meaning. Your Daddy's youth minister asked if he'd been baptized. When I heard him, I went and inquired, "Did anyone suggest you ask him that?" When he replied, "No," I KNEW that God was at work because we had just been discussing it a few evenings ago.

     While Daddy's parents gathered as many people as they could, we all headed toward Sports Lake to witness both your daddy hold back tears as he testified of the time he knew he could not go on without the Lord and walk down into the cold, cold water to be baptized in order to publicly show the outer cleansing that happens on the inside of a Believer in and Follower of Christ. I, of course, cried as with every other baptism I've been present for. Sometimes I laugh at myself and say that's the reason I know that I myself am saved!

     The "water" plays such a big part there on the peninsula. We went on beach strolls with Daddy and Mama to find shells and rocks and your daddy's favorite, agates. My favorites were the small green rocks and tiny pink shells. I brought them home and put them in Aunt Madalynn's flower pot. The boat ride we got to take out to the camp site where Daddy and his sisters used to go with the church was to me the most beautiful of all, just because I couldn't stop gazing at the aqua color of the glacier water. 

     We got a fire going, snacks out, and bug nets on. There was bear skat everywhere, so I was keeping my eyes peeled at every turn, especially hiking up the waterfall with brush all around! Papa Mark, Daddy, his sisters, and their dog, Tundra, all climbed to the top, while Gramma and I had to be escorted down from our halfway marks. 

     Papa Mark's mom, Grandma Dawn, had us over twice and had everything just so! We got to see the horses Aunt Katelyn works with and where Gramma works to get the Gospel out to the natives and from where Papa Mark flies staff, volunteers, and supplies for Samaritan's Purse! Papa Mike got to see even more than we did. We'll call that an upgrade just like the cabin one we got. When everyone left from the last tourist weekend of the season, we were placed in the Honeymoon Cabin for free. It was many times bigger than the first and not only had "indoor" plumbing but also had a jacuzzi!

     We saw moose and caribou right on the sides of the roads. More importantly I got to know your aunts on these rides. Katelyn is a bundle of laughs. Alaina listens and helps. And Neakita has struck out on her own and is someone I could talk with all day. This kind of thing was the true objective of the trip. 

     Meanwhile, Aunt McKala, Abigail, and Autumn were in North Carolina staying with Uncle Macklynn and Aunt Madalynn. He had broken the growth plate of his pelvis sprinting during football practice and was still dependent on crutches. Then, two weeks before the trip, Aunt Madalynn fell on her skateboard (that Papa Mike had given permission but not blessing for - God does that too, so remember it) and broke the radius bone in her arm in two and had to have it reset. That was it; I called the trip off, until I found out that Daddy and Mama couldn't get refunds. So three days before, I changed my mind when Madalynn said she was feeling better and when McKala continued to convince she could handle two three-year-olds and two broken-up teens for 12 days!

     Now, Papa Mike, Daddy and Mama, and I are back in the Lower 48 awaiting your expected March arrival. You've begun moving in Mama's belly, which reminds me of what David said, "I was cast upon thee from the womb: thou art my God from my mother's belly" (Psalm 22:10). You have ones going before you seeking and serving Christ. Child, may you always do the same.

      

     

Yes Ma'am

     I called it yesterday: that they would demand college for cops. Get everyone they can into the system and spellbound by their philosophies. What the world needs is less college and more church. BlackLivesMatter is a godless antithesis of the Church. And if you haven't cared to dig into their mission statement, then you don't know that with them anything goes including the destruction of the nuclear family which, again, is the foundation of Communism.
     Violence, as in Noah's day, is what brings an end to the patience of God. If "peaceful" protestors had been interested in peace, they would have left before the curfews. After the first day, they knew exactly the kind of violence they were ushering in by staying on the streets.
     Physical violence is the outcropping of a violent heart. Every so-called peaceful protestor who spits vile words and threats is well on their way to physical violence that just hasn't found the right  opportunity yet.
     As the brave police force dwindles as a result of reverse racism and unappreciation, the cities will see what it looks like when no one answers the 911 call. Except, the Progressives believe the answer is on-call social workers. Situations that have turned violent are not ready for reason. People who talk for a living think that's the solution to everything. These are the same people whose kids won't take no for answer, the same kids out on the street looking for something to represent because their own lives are meaningless. Even our Christian, young adults don't know God and his Word well enough to discern the current evil. They aren't "following" solid, Christian leaders, just cool friends and trends.
     Thank God our own kids have been taught about politics, current events, economics, and firearms their whole lives. I know you want to protect the innocence of your children, but if you don't make them "wise as serpents," they will be helpless and basically useless in this culture.

     Here's what I know: I was picking a couple of things up at the store last week. A black man a little older than I am walked up to get the same thing I was getting. I stepped back to give him room because of the whole Covid thing. He got his item while saying, "Excuse me." Then, he said, "I should have said excuse me before I got it." I smiled and told him I was so sleepy I didn't even notice. We talked about what we were making for supper, and he left. All good. No racism. That's how it works, one encounter at a time.
     But the Progressives need division to have a leg to stand on. God knows they don't have anything else. The polarization is causing more racism, not less. Truth be known, I'm a little more scared of black males having seen what I've seen on TV. I'm not scared enough to hate, but for people who don't understand the love of Christ, that's the natural path: fear=hate.
     If my information is correct, black males make up 6% of the American population and 44% of violent crime. Nothing but reformation in Jesus is going to help that discrepancy. And what about the black voices who refuse to be "played" by mindless politics? Burgess Owens, Ms. Yunga, Candace Owens, and the Woodson Institute. And guess what? I don't need social media. Why are Christian people depending on nonChristian outlets anyway? The same reason we do anything: convenience.
   
    The real problem in all this is no respect of authority. The vast majority of us have handed our children over to the system as their only true authority. And we're reaping the consequences. Organized school started out in America to not only get children out of factories but also to get moms into them. And we decided we liked it better that way. Leave the hard work to the professionals while we get a nicer house and a nicer car and more personal freedom. And now we have entire generations of rebels led by Principalities.
    This weekend has been a lab of sorts for our 15 and 12 year olds. They have gotten to see just what it takes to wrangle in the will of two year olds. All toddlers sneak, hit, steal, scream, and throw until someone stops them. I didn't hand my children over so that people could coerce them into submission. I have trained them with real, immediate, painful results, as they are doing with their children. Yes, there comes a point when God steps in and takes over. And believe you me, when that happens, they full-well know where their discipline is coming from and why. No excuses. Quit giving people excuses. Victims are breeders of contempt. And, ladies, the next time someone says, "Yes, ma'am," to you, humbly accept it as a respectful sign of authority which is forgotten in our country.

Done

     I'm done. I have been sympathetic. I have been patient. And now I'm done. I'm watching a church burn across from the White House. I have been concerned all day for our daughter and her husband who have delivered a load near LA and can't get one out. While waiting to hear from them, I watched a Fed Ex driver in fear of his life caught up in illegal protesting on the highway. By being persistent they finally got a load out of the state. Suddenly, they've gone from essential workers, drivers who transport the very things that are being looted, to nobodies.
     Another daughter is a fulltime firefighter and is on alert for a local protest. She's extremely nervous. Again, the essential nature of her job no longer "matters." All life matters: the unborn, the young, the old, the exploited, the handicapped, the poor, the sick, the bullied, the ugly, the dark and the light, and the wealthy, and the beautiful, and the healthy, and the successful. Every single body matters.
     Many of the rioters are incited by Antifa, paid provocateurs, which is nothing to do with white supremacy and everything to do with anarchy, anti-capitalism, and anti-nationalism. Add to that: if people knew anything about the Communist Manifesto, they would know that to get rid of private property is to get rid of the need to defend anything. No wonder the looters and destroyers don't care. They don't "own" anything, and to be honest, the democrats like it that way, one more step to Socialism.
     This culture is what our public school curriculum is expounding. To add insult to injury, most of the people on the street, dark or light, can barely form a logical sentence. And the rest spew F*** at whatever can possibly be cursed, not even knowing the meaning of the acronym.
     I've already posted how every out of control protestor of every ethnicity is an example of who they were at 5 years old, left undisciplined by their mothers. It's not on the daycare, not on the school, not on grandma. It's on nobody but you, mom. Even without dad, you could've handled this.
     I've said this before, and I'll tell you again. My mother's father was a sharecropper in Alabama. My mother literally remembers picking cotton, not as hard as the generations before her, of course. In our genealogy, we owned exactly 0 slaves. My father was an orphan, literally left in an orphanage as a young boy until he was adopted by a deluded woman. I am not going to claim to understand what it's like to live in dark skin. But I am going to say that this is much less about the haves and the have nots than it is about who will and who will not.
     I am firmly a believer of a God of choice. We make it or break it based on choices. Can things still go wrong? Yes, both my father-in-law and my husband have been victims of mistaken identity. My father-in-law was roughhoused, most law abiding guy you could think of.
     And then there's that short, sweet verse in the Bible that says to abstain from the appearance of evil. If you think somebody's gonna take it the wrong way, don't do it! Just read the Bible, all of it, all the time. You'll see the answer to every single injustice. I don't believe many people believe, I mean really believe God. I mean talk to him and listen for him and watch for him and wait for him. If you think what's happening is bad now, wait till they come for Christians? Are you ready? How big is your belief?

     The best thing I saw today was a black family out doing work together in their front yard. The son was working on the bank and the preteen daughter push mowing. This was while the protest was going on in our town. I would not blame them if they wanted to go and join them, but I'm guessing they are ashamed of how peaceful, decent protest has been stolen from them.
     

Dawn

     As I struggled through introspection all week, I realized at the end that I had not done or planned anything sacred for this week. So, I began praying and the sunrise soon came to mind. I asked Mike what place nearby we might see it from best. His mind went straight to the Parkway so this morning we woke up long before the alarms and began our ride to the mountains.
      We drove past the house we rented when we moved to North Carolina in dire circumstances, unknowing that it was the beginning of being set apart from the world's systems and traditions. Then, we passed near the camp where the kids summer after summer learned so much of God's Word and how to test their limits of work. We rolled up the Blue Ridge Parkway, the road I used to be so scared of, Mike had "Dead Man Walking" playing, something very different than what he would have then. As we approached the hill called "The Lump" that I used to put McKala in a backpack and hike and that Mike used to take our Jeep Wagoneer to in the snow to escort the kids back up after they slid all the way down, I saw that Megan and Jeremiah were already there along with 4 or 5 other people scattered around. We began the ascent, and I thought of how easy my walk is compared to what Jesus' was.
      We went to sit with them right there in the grass. Although the sun was shielded by cloud cover, the rising was a brilliant color, Dawn, my middle name and something I never saw much of until I determined to read God's Word through and through.
      It was so quiet, just the wind blowing gently. I thought of how quiet the world was and how we're sent home from our many ways, including pagan traditions, something the Lord warned me of back then in those mountains. There would be no real Easter egg hunts today, no mixing of holy with the unholy, worshipping the created with the Creator, "; and they followed vanity, and became vain, and went after the heathen that were round about them, concerning whom the Lord  had charged them, that they should not do like them" (2 Kings 17:25).
      I thought of the women approaching the tomb in a similar setting. I didn't know that Mike would ask me to read, but I did have a Bible in my coat pocket. But when I began to read Luke 24, "Now upon the first day of the week, very early in the morning, …" I couldn't even make it through that. I regained my composure and started over. Again, I couldn't. And that's when Megan asked me to hand it to her. That allowed me to video the scene and our firstborn's reading of God's Word.
     When we left, we drove by the little Blue Ridge Baptist Church (whose pastor baptized both Megan and me in the river) which is right down the road from where we lived, but not before we stopped at a pasture that decades ago was Mike's great grandfather's. There was a fresh calf, no more than a day or two old, so happy to be alive, clumsily running around, face white as snow. We stopped later at a couple of other overlooks and stayed at one for a good while, leaving the radio up and worshipping, Mike more than any of us.
      We came down the mountain by the church we called home for five years where four of the children were graciously baptized all in the same baptismal at the same time. Macklynn then Madalynn were baptized there, too. We came home to eat a little something and watch Franklin Graham preach from Central Park. Now that Melody has been given the green light to GO as a medical technician, it's of particular interest! She was afraid none of us would want her to GO. Turns out everyone did! How can I ask her not to GO, when I've told her the words of Jesus to GO her whole life? As much as I love home, a willingness to GO is what defines who we really are and not going where it's easy but going where it's scary and with a skill the sick, poor, and oppressed need.
      She's out of work right now and out of school. What better time? Meanwhile, everyone else is working having virtually no debt, with some money stored up. They all love the outdoors and know how to utilize it, know how to cook and to cut hair, at the very least trim. They all can change their own oil and rotate their tires and are basically self sufficient. This is all well and good but nothing without the Lord. To see that they are observing Him today and trusting in His teaching is what this mother longs for and blesses her most.
     A new day is dawning for our family. The thing about the low, dark places is that they make the high places seem all the higher. And I have to write about them! I have literally nothing from my ancestors other than some light-hearted correspondences. Well, I do have The Ideal Life that was Mike's great-grandmother's, but it's such a large, imposing book that it's been left mostly unread in my pursuit of studying the Bible.
    This journey, this moving around from place to place, church to church; I think people might feel sorry for me, especially people who know the details. What they may or may not know though is that Jesus has been working on me, making me like Him, working things out of me, working in the whole family's favor including Mike's ...so, these things were necessary.
     I don't why I just NOW realized that we have as many as 5 weddings left to have, 7 high school and college graduations, and 6 more families with babies. This really is just the beginning! I feel like I'm coming out of a tunnel and everything looks big and new and good and bright. I'm truly happy, rather than just putting one foot in front of the other, for the first time in a good, long while.

Tell Somebody

     People ask what's my favorite color, place to eat - where I want to travel, what I want to do. I usually don't have a straight answer. I like to look at blue, but I like to wear pink. I like good food; I mostly like my own. I don't care where I travel; I'll spend eternity with Jesus on a new earth; I don't know what I want to "do." I know what I don't want to do and that's spend the rest of life cooped up in the house ever learning. School is so belabored that the very life of a person is sucked out, creating a sedentary existence because ": of making many books there is no end; and much study is a weariness of the flesh" (Ecc. 12:12).
     In my life I've tried so many things: food and drink, beauty and men, and intellect and talent. Like Solomon though, I've found this only, "Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man" (12:13) with the one thing that's missing from this mandatory staying at home: telling somebody. Yes, I could write, and I thought that was what I wanted to "do," but the sadder I've gotten and the harder I've searched, I finally realized what I'm actually missing is telling people about Jesus everywhere I go. I don't even mean to. It just gushes out. And I don't mean to the church people; that's good, like when I run into Eva all around town or when I have deep talks with Andrea at art class, but I mean to anyone who'll listen: the young pregnant mother buying the same scrub brush as I at Dollar General, the teenager selling me shoes, the single mom at the football game, the girl at the pool, and the lady on vacation.
     I don't leave the house with some prepared message or agenda, so I'm always surprised when God gives me an opening! THAT is what's missing, and I didn't even know it until today. It is why though I'm careful to leave a "margin," extra time for encounters, ever since I heard a sermon about it. What I'm bad to do though is not leave a margin for home. When the grown kids call, they ask what I'm doing, and I'll answer them then often say, "Talk fast." And to the ones who live here, I'm liable to say, "Spit it out," when I'm interrupted from a task.
     See, I actually love being at home and totally agree that it's a good place for everyone to be right now not only to protect each other but to appreciate our own families' company. I'm good with, okay with, not always great at: cleaning, teaching, and cooking. But I didn't know that I'm not good with having no one new to tell the Good News to face to face, the way Paul longed to do in his letters.
     From these experiences, I don't even need the relationship or necessary follow up or encouragement of my own. It encourages me when I am able tell somebody that God is relevant to their lives and what He's done in mine. To know that it pleases Him is my joy and breaks any monotony or sense of duty I feel with the other components of my life. It's a pressure valve that I didn't even know I required. Even my children, I love them and they love me, but they can only take so much of my teaching and talking. All I really want them to learn though is that every conversation they have everywhere they go counts, that God get the glory somehow some way.
      People have different expressions of their love for God whether through music or art or any number of things. Not everybody writes like I do. Not everybody talks as readily as I do. But EVERY Christian should be about the business of talking readily, introvert or no. He is worthy of praise to every ear that will listen in every place that we stand. We can smile and help people all day long but without the utterance of the Gospel, it is in the end for our own glory.
     I think everybody knows by now how I feel about a woman taking care of her own. But that's just a baseline, like tithing is to giving. To do it well is so much more than developing gifts, skills, and intelligence in our children but is teaching and exemplifying the sharing of God's goodness always with all people, not solely as part of some ministry but as part of the Kingdom of God. Everything else is vanity. I have to be reminded though when I become works based and even create a self imposed prison, indoors trying to get the lesson done, the room cleaned, or the call made.
     Having this slow down has revealed to me that I'm not living the life I love. I love the outdoors. I love communication. The latter has been temporarily taken to a degree, from me and from everyone. But the former is something I've done to myself, only seeing the pretty days through a window because I gotta get that A. It's made me hate school, which oughta be matter-of-fact, let's-get-this-over-with simple.
     You know, I said I was going to keep dancing after Megan's wedding, but instead I went to the gym and then not even that. I said I'd start singing again, but I'm forever reading. I said I'd start drawing again, but even that became work stuck in between the assignments I have due and the responsibilities of home. Some days eating has seemed like my only pleasure, something I thought I had kicked but the stressful, sedentary life reintroduces. And it's not just mom doing college. So many home school moms think we have to recreate a school environment at home - again, sucking the very life out of everything. And, of course, there's the other extreme, not requiring much at all, myself guilty of just throwing up my hands. And sometimes something even worse happens; we get proud and our children get proud, set apart not out of humility and preparedness to affect the world but just plain snubbing our noses at the world and missing the very essence of homeschooling: to be light in the present darkness, not only to people we like but also to people we don't.
     Here's what I'm gonna do: I'm gonna go on walks with no particular outcome in mind; I'm gonna turn the radio back on; I'm gonna sit in the sun; I'm gonna teach Madalynn more about cooking rather than keeping that time for myself; I'm gonna make food my friend again; I'm not gonna be so serious; and I'm not going to get all As (computer class has already taken care of that). I'm gonna laugh more and enjoy my family because time with them is impossibly fleeting but so is time to tell the world.
      You, when everything opens back up, be ready. Tell somebody while there is time and opportunity. I believe there will come a day when Christian speech will be considered hate speech. So, don't be that somebody who won't tell anybody until there's nobody and no time left to tell without persecution. What will we say before the Lord when we have brought no one with us to His feet? Is that even possible for someone who has learned the grace of God not to have convinced somebody somewhere to follow also? At the very least, we can be planting seeds for those who harvest. Ask yourself during this time what your walk ought to look like when you're unleashed on society once more. It ought to be characterized as a burning flame. Study up and pray up and be and stay available not just to your family but with your family to the lost and perishing world.

Isolation

     I got sick just as the Corona isolation safeguards began and stayed sick for a full 13 days. I didn't get tested; I just stayed at home - what I have heard called a "luxury" but is most definitely a sacrificial choice, a lifetime one.
     I sneezed and hacked all day and coughed myself to sleep most nights, and since it was productive, I didn't medicate. I warded all the older kids off, each having reasons to come by for one thing or the other. I wouldn't let Michael whose university, with all NC ones, has gone online come home either. So, he's stayed there working and cooking and studying. The other day Macklynn and Madalynn Facetimed the whole family. Michael had a paint roller in his hand; Miranda was on the tread mill at the fire department; Megan was delivering freight with her husband, Jeremiah; McKala was potty training the twins; and Melody, well I'm not sure. Poor girl nearly got taken out by a semi truck earlier this month and has appointments with her neurologist, an orthopedist, and, of all things, a cardiologist. She appears to have early stages of heart trouble, the electrical kind passed down from Mike's father's family.
     Mike, he's making the best of his bad situation.  For several months with the church van, he and the kids pick up grocery store donations for the Food Pantry at church. They/we do the heavy lifting since he can't. He does a lot of tinkering and is planning our summer garden but is not in the same condition he was for last summer's. Funny that I wrote a couple of years ago of all the things I thought we'd do together in our new circumstances. But he's still a man, and I'm still a woman; I'm still the cook, and he's still Mr. Fixit; and that's ok. Egalitarianism is not as cut and dry as the sociologists would like it to be. I don't believe it ever will be. Men and women are born with, not trained into, certain dispositions.
     There's a frustration: once Mike qualified for Social Security Disability, he was disqualified from Medicaid. What kind of politics is that? He doesn't get Medicare for 24 months. It sounds like a way for people to die without healthcare before they can live on Medicare. I'm not talking about universal healthcare; I'm talking about a man who worked from the time he was 15 years old and put into the system. So, this leads to politics and where I might need to get involved. And sometimes I think this is part of where things are headed for me even though I will never believe that politics fixes things rather than God. Speaking of, we've come to a point of choosing sides in politics. It's no longer about a policy here and a policy there. With the exception of a couple of Democrats, the party at large has given its stamp of approval on the slaughter of children. There is no way past that for a true Christian. Period. Our nation is in danger of judgment.
     "They did not destroy the nations, concerning whom the Lord commanded them: but they were mingled among the heathen, and learned their works. And they served their idols: which were a snare unto them. Yea, they sacrificed their sons and their daughters unto devils, and shed innocent blood, even the blood of their sons and of their daughters, whom they sacrificed unto the idols of Canaan: and the land was polluted with blood. Thus were they defiled with their own works, and went a whoring with their own inventions. Therefore was the wrath of the Lord kindled against his people, insomuch that he abhorred his own inheritance and he gave them into the hand of the heathen; and they that hated them ruled over them. Their enemies oppressed them, and they were bought into subjection under their hand. Many times did he deliver them; but they provoked him with their counsel, and were brought low for their iniquity. Nevertheless he regarded their affliction, when he heard their cry:" (Psalm 106: 34-44). Our cry is not only to pray and to obey but to vote because we no longer "destroy the nations." And we make disciples of all people, our neighbors, our children.
     Are we making disciples of our children? Daily devotions and weekly church attendance won't get it in today's environment; it never did anyway or we wouldn't be in the fix we're in. It's a lifestyle; it's accountability; it's counsel; it's training; it's discipline; it's Christian education; it's treating family better than friends; it's having friends that are going the same direction.

     So, everybody's home now. What are we doing with that time? Now's the time for you to inspect what your children are being taught in the secular system. I already know; we did k12 online for 2 years. I'm fulltime at Wilkes Community College also. Michael warned me I'd hate 95% of it. Perfect prediction. If you want to be "re-educated," go to college. If you must go or send your child, there'd better be a willingness and readiness to fight the good fight because that's exactly what it's going to be, an all-out assault on the existence of the One True God and His Word. I have examples hand over fist.
     It's not only the education; it's the culture, wearing away at the sturdiest of characters. The only thing I have gained from public college is becoming a better apologist. Go to a Christian college. Yes, if you have the money and if they're teaching the truth (a lot of them don't), but don't expect to go out and lead a group of people when you have no experience. That's what putting in your time is about. "And beside this, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge; and to knowledge temperance; and to temperance patience; and patience godliness; and to godliness brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness charity" (2 Peter 1:5-7). These things do not happen during the course of a few years of college; these things happen over the course of decades working and dealing with family, coworkers, and neighbors.
     If institutional education were a matter of a few hours before lunch with great reverence toward God, "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge:" (Proverbs 1:7), then I might be on board, but because it is designed literally to keep children while parents work (say history and sociology books), it inherently prevents them from living the lives they were meant to. Are there greater behavior issues for your household than those of transition to home right now? The children are not trained to live together and obey. Are there issues with boredom? The children don't know what do with their time without being told.
     Wait a minute, homeschool mom. We can be guilty of very similar things. Do we train our children or let them do what they want to? Do we give our children spare time, or do we fill it up with the things the world makes us believe we have to accomplish? Our own family has been in danger of these things lately. We no longer have little kids nor farm animals, which automatically lend themselves to work and play. What has happened in this slow down of running Madalynn to lessons and Macklynn to the high school at lunch and back after practice is a slower pace at our own home: time to fish and target practice and till and watch CSPAN. People can argue all day about what news to watch (and we do have a preference), but have your kids heard the politicians? Do they know why socialism won't work? Because school is teaching them straight up one side and down the other that it does! Do they understand what's going on? Why not?
     Are you reading the Bible and with your children? Little kids can pick up on a lot. They are not dumb and do not need to be dismissed from the room when hard things are read or talked about. Just start somewhere and read the Bible. Old books advised all these things I'm saying. But so many of us read what's on the New York Times Best Seller List. Is it fixing our tiredness, our depression, our disillusionment that these lives we chose are not what we thought they'd be, so we'll just keep powering up with coffee and antidepressants and wait for retirement?
     There's a better way, a way that was hidden from us, a way that no one told me about and maybe no one told you about. Why go and work for someone else when you can be quite frankly the queen of your own castle? That is the gift that God gave you. The curse was for men to work by the sweat of their brow and for women to suffer pain in childbirth, but we add to it. Yes, we've proven that we can do what men do, but should we? In seasons of our lives, we might; but in the season of our childbearing, let's enjoy the ride.
      Money? Don't pull that one on me. All money is God's, and he can and will provide through your husband. Try Him. He says to. Question to you: do you help your husband make money or spend money? By that I mean, do you work together for a bigger house and nicer cars and vacations and clothes and gas and all manner of things? How can you help your husband save money? Are you willing to have a lesser house, a lesser car, fewer clothes, and local vacations. And by the way, substitutes like these would make a huge impact on the environmental "footprint" everyone's so up in arms about.
     Your husband won't let you stay home? Now, that is a snag. His parents never taught or showed him the importance of it, or he has strayed from the truth. Are you willing to pray for him as your own heart is changed by the Lord? Whatever you do, do not nag to or complain about him. And whatever else you do, do not make him your excuse, when you have no intention whatsoever of giving up your "rights," "status," "freedom," and "security," all the while claiming it's for the kids and their futures.

     Right now, Macklynn is running up and down the yard with Michael's puppy and has a makeshift gym in the basement to accomplish his Weight Lifting class requirements. His Foods teacher has sent a packet of assignments home. He made pancakes yesterday and apple dumplings today. He's becoming a good cook just like his brother. And he's taking training for football seriously, just like his brother. I have plenty of textbooks of my own to fill up his days, but I'm not going to. I am going through them and making my own outlines for study and memorization, to make the process more efficient, something I wish I had done with our older children instead of procrastinating out of frustration. It just requires a little preparation, like a popular homeschool speaker says, "All you have to do is stay a week ahead of the kids."
     We're in 1 Kings. Over the last many months, I have read with Macklynn and Madalynn from Genesis to 1 Kings, stopping to discuss and interject current events and issues. I like for them to read to me out of the New Testament. This is doable. Don't let Satan steal this time from you. You are adequate. When your children were born, God made you a teacher and he knew the patience and wisdom you would need. You just have to stick around long enough to develop it. It's not easy. And it's not just a natural thing or luxury thing for the ones of us who do. It's a daily dying to self and seeking of the Lord.

     It's interesting that I set up Skype lessons for Madalynn and her cello before this whole pandemic thing got serious. All these online sessions do not take the place of personal relationships, but they make this isolation much more bearable.
     Mike is taking it easy, but his mind never stops, especially listening to all the political jargon. His defibrillator went off for the first time not once but twice this week. The changing of medicines and the ups and downs of health play on a person's attitude, even when they wish they didn't, and it seems like especially when they've been making progress.
     Megan and Jeremiah are on the road delivering those essential products and had a family give them lunch in a truck stop yesterday. Miranda works for both the fire department and EMS, so she's on call for her community. McKala's husband, Timothy, is a lineman for Duke and is doing essential work also, while she does her essential work of raising, teaching, and training up their children and has a warm supper and clean house ready for him at the end of the day. As I said, Michael is still in his apartment at school working, studying, and cooking. Melody is a little distraught about not getting to work. Thankfully, her EMT classes were already going to be online (and so are Miranda's). Where her life seems to have taken another nosedive, a young man has found her and made a commitment to her. He might just be what I've been praying for her.
     If you noticed a trend in the kinds of jobs our children have, it is not a coincidence, especially with our daughters. Before you lose your minds, keep in mind that our daughters do the jobs that men do, but they never set out to have the careers men OR women have, not only to stay out of school debt but to be available for their would-be families, and to do jobs in the meantime that God has gifted them at, all the better if they be ministry related as when Megan worked for SP and when Miranda worked for the Crisis Pregnancy Center which put in her heart to become an ultrasound technician for pregnancy ministry purposes wherever that might lead.

     Isolation: maybe it's because we had several small children and lived in the mountains during Y2K, no, definitely because of, but we have always had a stock of certain things. At all times, I have at least three gallons of bleach. I keep particular medicines. I have potato flakes, pasta, dry beans, rice, dry milk, sugar, flour, and things to make these things appetizing.
     Let this be a wake-up call; get out of debt. Put up some things for these rainy days. Put on the whole armor of God, and make sure your children have it on voluntarily and are solid in their own faith before you send them out into a world they are not, as children, called to save.
     And remember this and warn others, "When your fear cometh as desolation, and your destruction cometh as a whirlwind; when distress and anguish cometh upon you. Then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer; they shall seek me early, but they shall not find me: for that they hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the Lord: they would none of my counsel: they disposed all my reproof. Therefore shall they eat of the fruit of their own way, and be filled with their own devices. For the turning away of the simple shall slay them, and the prosperity of fools shall destroy them. But whoso hearkeneth unto me shall dwell safely, and shall be quiet from fear of evil" (Proverbs 1:27-33).