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).
Friday, March 27, 2020
Saturday, October 19, 2019
The Problem with Procrastination
Within minutes of waking, I got a message to find out what Madalynn and I are doing today. I hated to respond with the list I have, because today would've been a great day to go spend time with McKala and the twins. Not long after that, I returned Megan's call and found out she's traveling through and stopping in for the night and day tomorrow and wanted to know what we're doing. Once again, I hated to tell her that Mike and I left some assignments to finish today, never mind that our shower needs to be cleaned and yardwork needs to be finished.
I know for some people that's what Saturdays are for. And sometimes they are, but I'm not a fan of reserving them for that. Many times, we would be traveling to WCU to watch Michael play, but I consider that family time, so that's all good.
All this leads me to how my weekdays are going. I just can't seem to get things done, which is an indicator that I need to become more efficient or to rid even more things from my life. I've even been having dreams/nightmares about cleaning and organizing! I need things to be so minimal that I have margin in my life. I don't need every moment planned out or everything thing done perfectly, but I do need to have some things under control, so that I might take advantage of life when it calls.
Sunday is not an option. I still do all I can to receive the gift of rest God has given mankind. My rest might look different that yours. Often my rest looks like doing something that I would ordinarily set down to help someone else. It often is something creative, maybe unnecessary to some.
Today for Macklynn was supposed to be a day of purging his room, and it's also his turn to clean their bathroom. However, yesterday he got an invitation to go bear hunting. How could I not let him go? I won't clean the bathroom for him, and I surely won't clean his room for him. But he'll get to it soon enough. Because like the quote McKala posted about our kayaking trip last Sunday, "Fill your life with adventures, not things. Have stories to tell, not stuff to show," sometimes you gotta just drop everything.
You can't plan the things you're inspired to do either, like Madalynn who is learning the cello. It's a fine line between the disciplines of practice and the times when passion flows out of you. So, as much as I would like for her to have a set time, she really comes alive at night and loves to play while we're all sleeping. That's how my writing goes. I could reserve a time for it like I did Tuesday to document the weekend, but that's exactly what it sounded like, documentation - dry, void of life. So, if I'm going to do this writing and have anything become of it, then sometimes I'm going to have to drop everything and ask myself like Joshua asked the children of Joseph, "How long are you slack to go and possess the land?" (Joshua 18:3).
You gotta get the daily stuff under control so that you might "possess" all that you are indwelled to become.
I know for some people that's what Saturdays are for. And sometimes they are, but I'm not a fan of reserving them for that. Many times, we would be traveling to WCU to watch Michael play, but I consider that family time, so that's all good.
All this leads me to how my weekdays are going. I just can't seem to get things done, which is an indicator that I need to become more efficient or to rid even more things from my life. I've even been having dreams/nightmares about cleaning and organizing! I need things to be so minimal that I have margin in my life. I don't need every moment planned out or everything thing done perfectly, but I do need to have some things under control, so that I might take advantage of life when it calls.
Sunday is not an option. I still do all I can to receive the gift of rest God has given mankind. My rest might look different that yours. Often my rest looks like doing something that I would ordinarily set down to help someone else. It often is something creative, maybe unnecessary to some.
Today for Macklynn was supposed to be a day of purging his room, and it's also his turn to clean their bathroom. However, yesterday he got an invitation to go bear hunting. How could I not let him go? I won't clean the bathroom for him, and I surely won't clean his room for him. But he'll get to it soon enough. Because like the quote McKala posted about our kayaking trip last Sunday, "Fill your life with adventures, not things. Have stories to tell, not stuff to show," sometimes you gotta just drop everything.
You can't plan the things you're inspired to do either, like Madalynn who is learning the cello. It's a fine line between the disciplines of practice and the times when passion flows out of you. So, as much as I would like for her to have a set time, she really comes alive at night and loves to play while we're all sleeping. That's how my writing goes. I could reserve a time for it like I did Tuesday to document the weekend, but that's exactly what it sounded like, documentation - dry, void of life. So, if I'm going to do this writing and have anything become of it, then sometimes I'm going to have to drop everything and ask myself like Joshua asked the children of Joseph, "How long are you slack to go and possess the land?" (Joshua 18:3).
You gotta get the daily stuff under control so that you might "possess" all that you are indwelled to become.
Wednesday, July 10, 2019
her.
A farmer's daughter and an orphan, of sorts, in smalltown, Alabama, bore her.
A pony and peaceful enough life, of what can be remembered, were given her.
Daddy's new job changed farm life to suburb life for her.
"You are smart and pretty," over and over was told her.
Before anyone knew it, every contest was won her.
And soon, every eye was toward her.
Everyone wanted a piece of her,
especially men.
So, at the early age of 12, sneaking out became a game to her.
But at 13, again the new girl, everything got serious when friends convinced her
that an older guy would be a good first "experience" for her.
Instead, pregnancy was the experience found her.
Taken to an abortion clinic was the solution given her.
All she can remember is the lie that was sold to her
to convince her there was never a child inside of her.
And the shame, the shame that someone, maybe the teacher,
might figure out what weeks out of PE meant for that 8th grader.
Somehow, down it never slowed her.
The life of the party, the weekend drinker became her.
Not many boys for her, mostly men, and they liked her.
Before she knew it, she had been with as many men as the years before her.
Confession to someone was all she could think of to help her,
but all she remembers is the door closing, no Bible opened, no prayer for her,
at least not with her.
A blur are so many things to her.
But one day, that day her dad finally went away, was the day for her
she went and stayed with a man who was of no desire to her,
just a body, just a comfort, when everything seemed lost to her.
Achievements were earned by her.
Good grades were easy for her.
But none of it was relevant to her.
Broken and beyond all the norms, nothing spoke to her,
until
A man told her that he loved her.
He was exciting, completely different from what was known to her.
Chances are that she was more into him and he into her
than either of them was actually in love with the other.
But he married her
a month after her high school graduated her.
College in the big city was awaiting her.
So, she went, and within six months felt certain another baby was within her.
A classmate informed her they'd test her
at a clinic down the street, where they told her
a baby was bad for her.
And even her mother wasn't sure for her.
But that baby was hers.
No doubt she was having her.
School and work and marriage all continued with her
till that day she couldn't keep leaving her
with anyone else but her.
Being home wasn't easy for her.
She really didn't know what to do but to love her.
Working on the weekends seemed good for her,
until she met with a temptation she thought was gone from her.
The unthinkable happened while she was home with her,
a stranger where he had no business with her.
Regret bombarded her.
What had become of her?
Counseling seemed the only hope for her.
And that's where the Light came on for her.
Repentance and acceptance became real to her.
Jesus was alive in her!
Had he been there all along since he moved her
at VBS when she was 8, maybe saving her
all the while? No one had discipled her.
It didn't matter to her.
Now, her "her" was a "she."
Things didn't have to keep happening to her
as if no one could hear her.
She could make things happen through her belief in prayer.
She had four more babies and was pregnant with another before the tempter came again.
She had to see him every day, while the kids would play.
She had a way out when the summer was over, but
she revisited what had overcome her, because there was still part of her
she had not dealt with.
She still had imaginations no one knew of.
She had first seen porn in her childhood home and again in her own.
She wasn't wanting to be with another woman but to be that woman.
She would never have admitted it, but what she wanted was to be something of a goddess,
a deceptive perception of what she could nor should ever be.
She escaped the dilemma, not unscathed, but by fear of what damage she might have made.
She had that and one more baby, totaling 8 with the one gone above.
She thought is was over, the old her behind her, when men from school "found" her and asked if they could "friend" her.
She thought she had it under control, but
she had no experience with this way of communicating, and
she found that ears are far too willing to hear what woes are written between the lines.
She learned the hard way the trap that was set. Now,
she has boundaries in place to prevent such events.
She was to be tested one more time, during a lesson given twice a week. For months,
she knew all too well from the look in his eye, what way this was going.
She avoided. She sat in the car. But finally she knew there was only one way to stop it.
She had to leave. And she did. And for the first time, she had true victory.
She's learning that there's more to her than meets the eye.
She's learning that she can take God at his Word, because she reads it every day.
She's learning that God is her Father and her Husband and that purity is what pleases him.
She's learning that taking care of herself doesn't have to get any attention from anyone.
She's learning that, in fact, the better she looks the more she ought to hide it away as a gift.
She's learning that she too can be holy and is commanded to be so, just like the Savior
of the her
she used to be.
A pony and peaceful enough life, of what can be remembered, were given her.
Daddy's new job changed farm life to suburb life for her.
"You are smart and pretty," over and over was told her.
Before anyone knew it, every contest was won her.
And soon, every eye was toward her.
Everyone wanted a piece of her,
especially men.
So, at the early age of 12, sneaking out became a game to her.
But at 13, again the new girl, everything got serious when friends convinced her
that an older guy would be a good first "experience" for her.
Instead, pregnancy was the experience found her.
Taken to an abortion clinic was the solution given her.
All she can remember is the lie that was sold to her
to convince her there was never a child inside of her.
And the shame, the shame that someone, maybe the teacher,
might figure out what weeks out of PE meant for that 8th grader.
Somehow, down it never slowed her.
The life of the party, the weekend drinker became her.
Not many boys for her, mostly men, and they liked her.
Before she knew it, she had been with as many men as the years before her.
Confession to someone was all she could think of to help her,
but all she remembers is the door closing, no Bible opened, no prayer for her,
at least not with her.
A blur are so many things to her.
But one day, that day her dad finally went away, was the day for her
she went and stayed with a man who was of no desire to her,
just a body, just a comfort, when everything seemed lost to her.
Achievements were earned by her.
Good grades were easy for her.
But none of it was relevant to her.
Broken and beyond all the norms, nothing spoke to her,
until
A man told her that he loved her.
He was exciting, completely different from what was known to her.
Chances are that she was more into him and he into her
than either of them was actually in love with the other.
But he married her
a month after her high school graduated her.
College in the big city was awaiting her.
So, she went, and within six months felt certain another baby was within her.
A classmate informed her they'd test her
at a clinic down the street, where they told her
a baby was bad for her.
And even her mother wasn't sure for her.
But that baby was hers.
No doubt she was having her.
School and work and marriage all continued with her
till that day she couldn't keep leaving her
with anyone else but her.
Being home wasn't easy for her.
She really didn't know what to do but to love her.
Working on the weekends seemed good for her,
until she met with a temptation she thought was gone from her.
The unthinkable happened while she was home with her,
a stranger where he had no business with her.
Regret bombarded her.
What had become of her?
Counseling seemed the only hope for her.
And that's where the Light came on for her.
Repentance and acceptance became real to her.
Jesus was alive in her!
Had he been there all along since he moved her
at VBS when she was 8, maybe saving her
all the while? No one had discipled her.
It didn't matter to her.
Now, her "her" was a "she."
Things didn't have to keep happening to her
as if no one could hear her.
She could make things happen through her belief in prayer.
She had four more babies and was pregnant with another before the tempter came again.
She had to see him every day, while the kids would play.
She had a way out when the summer was over, but
she revisited what had overcome her, because there was still part of her
she had not dealt with.
She still had imaginations no one knew of.
She had first seen porn in her childhood home and again in her own.
She wasn't wanting to be with another woman but to be that woman.
She would never have admitted it, but what she wanted was to be something of a goddess,
a deceptive perception of what she could nor should ever be.
She escaped the dilemma, not unscathed, but by fear of what damage she might have made.
She had that and one more baby, totaling 8 with the one gone above.
She thought is was over, the old her behind her, when men from school "found" her and asked if they could "friend" her.
She thought she had it under control, but
she had no experience with this way of communicating, and
she found that ears are far too willing to hear what woes are written between the lines.
She learned the hard way the trap that was set. Now,
she has boundaries in place to prevent such events.
She was to be tested one more time, during a lesson given twice a week. For months,
she knew all too well from the look in his eye, what way this was going.
She avoided. She sat in the car. But finally she knew there was only one way to stop it.
She had to leave. And she did. And for the first time, she had true victory.
She's learning that there's more to her than meets the eye.
She's learning that she can take God at his Word, because she reads it every day.
She's learning that God is her Father and her Husband and that purity is what pleases him.
She's learning that taking care of herself doesn't have to get any attention from anyone.
She's learning that, in fact, the better she looks the more she ought to hide it away as a gift.
She's learning that she too can be holy and is commanded to be so, just like the Savior
of the her
she used to be.
Dissenters, the Division
My husband had told me he saw the Blue Angels fly over while he was mowing last week. He loves them, especially since he spent several weeks of disaster relief in Pensacola, FL, where they are stationed and do regular maneuvers along the coastline. I didn't think anything else of it until we watched Washington, DC's Fourth of July Celebration. After a detailed history and due credit for each branch of our Service were given, flyovers were performed, including the Blue Angels!
I'm not moved by many things. Pride is certainly not one of them. But unity is. I couldn't help but well up with the passion of our President and of the people.
Immediately, there were dissenters, pundits expounding that it was a political play and that there has been no true unity or righteousness in America's past.
Our family's observations have been that the disunity is almost always irrefutably what used to be from the fringe element, but, thanks to public education and social degradation, we are afraid is now the norm and here to stay.
This week, a city council took a private vote to discontinue the Pledge of Allegiance at the beginning of meetings. As I was watching the fallout and the smug response of the leading member, I wondered to myself, "Do we need a war?!" Seriously, do we need a war to remind us that life is not always this easy?
For the Israelites, that was the obvious case. Every couple of generations, they had to be reminded of everything they took for granted. God made it so very clear what He wants, after a long list of sexual things he considers vile, "(For all these abominations have the men of the land done, which were before you, and the land is defiled;) that the land spue not you out also, when ye defile it, as it spued out the nations that were before you." (Lev. 18:27-28). This after having said, "And the land is defiled: therefore I do visit the iniquity thereof upon it, and the land itself vomiteth out her inhabitants. Ye shall therefore keep my statutes and my judgments, and shall not commit any of these abominations; neither any of your own nation, nor any stranger that sojourneth among you: ...."
And of the custom of Molech, whose sacrifice demanded children, the LORD said, "And I will set my face against that man, and will cut him off from among his people; because he hath given of his seed unto Molech, to defile my sanctuary, and to profane my holy name. And if the people of the land do any ways hide their eyes from the man, when he giveth of his seed unto Molech, and kill him not: then I will set my face against that man, and against his family, and will cut him off, and all that go a whoring after him, to commit whoredom with Molech, from among their people." (Lev. 20: 3-5).
First of all, thank Jesus that death is not the sentence anymore. It's interesting though how we dismiss Old Testament standards as archaic and, in our simplicity, don't understand that at the rate we're going, none of us would be alive to talk about it if not for the longsuffering of God, having sent his Son that generations might continue.
At large, we are consumed with lusts of every kind, so much so that when we receive the fruitfulness of them, we sacrifice it to the god of convenience to keep doing that thing which produces the gift that we don't want in the first place. And in the extreme of performing sexual intercourse that cannot even produce fruit, we prove exactly how disinterested we are in children at all.
So here we are, but Dust. We forget so quickly the lessons of the Bible and the sacrifices of our veterans, to provide us a lawful land of unity and peace, which is never possible without protection. Idealists don't believe it's necessary. Realists know that it is. So, thank God, our Defense is present and active and celebrated as it was this Fourth of July.
I'm not moved by many things. Pride is certainly not one of them. But unity is. I couldn't help but well up with the passion of our President and of the people.
Immediately, there were dissenters, pundits expounding that it was a political play and that there has been no true unity or righteousness in America's past.
Our family's observations have been that the disunity is almost always irrefutably what used to be from the fringe element, but, thanks to public education and social degradation, we are afraid is now the norm and here to stay.
This week, a city council took a private vote to discontinue the Pledge of Allegiance at the beginning of meetings. As I was watching the fallout and the smug response of the leading member, I wondered to myself, "Do we need a war?!" Seriously, do we need a war to remind us that life is not always this easy?
For the Israelites, that was the obvious case. Every couple of generations, they had to be reminded of everything they took for granted. God made it so very clear what He wants, after a long list of sexual things he considers vile, "(For all these abominations have the men of the land done, which were before you, and the land is defiled;) that the land spue not you out also, when ye defile it, as it spued out the nations that were before you." (Lev. 18:27-28). This after having said, "And the land is defiled: therefore I do visit the iniquity thereof upon it, and the land itself vomiteth out her inhabitants. Ye shall therefore keep my statutes and my judgments, and shall not commit any of these abominations; neither any of your own nation, nor any stranger that sojourneth among you: ...."
And of the custom of Molech, whose sacrifice demanded children, the LORD said, "And I will set my face against that man, and will cut him off from among his people; because he hath given of his seed unto Molech, to defile my sanctuary, and to profane my holy name. And if the people of the land do any ways hide their eyes from the man, when he giveth of his seed unto Molech, and kill him not: then I will set my face against that man, and against his family, and will cut him off, and all that go a whoring after him, to commit whoredom with Molech, from among their people." (Lev. 20: 3-5).
First of all, thank Jesus that death is not the sentence anymore. It's interesting though how we dismiss Old Testament standards as archaic and, in our simplicity, don't understand that at the rate we're going, none of us would be alive to talk about it if not for the longsuffering of God, having sent his Son that generations might continue.
At large, we are consumed with lusts of every kind, so much so that when we receive the fruitfulness of them, we sacrifice it to the god of convenience to keep doing that thing which produces the gift that we don't want in the first place. And in the extreme of performing sexual intercourse that cannot even produce fruit, we prove exactly how disinterested we are in children at all.
So here we are, but Dust. We forget so quickly the lessons of the Bible and the sacrifices of our veterans, to provide us a lawful land of unity and peace, which is never possible without protection. Idealists don't believe it's necessary. Realists know that it is. So, thank God, our Defense is present and active and celebrated as it was this Fourth of July.
Wednesday, July 3, 2019
Lora
30 years married is a long time, especially for my husband and me. But as of July 1st, that's how far we've come.
He had an out of town doctor's appointment for his first annual check of his pacemaker. So, we were on a "doctor date," I call it. I think that's pretty common for anyone who has a chronically ill family member.
Since we were nearby, he took me to my favorite restaurant. And as we were leaving, I asked him if it would be bad of me to run by my favorite shoe store, the buy one, get one half off kind, to finish getting geared up for my return to the gym. Actually, I haven't done anything significant in the gym other than work there and tell other people what to do, since I was a member of the Racquetball Club in high school.
He patiently sat in the car while I went straight to the men's athletic isle. My feet are so wide, I don't even look at the women's anymore. I settled on a pair of throwback Reeboks and asked the girl packing boxes on the next isle if I'd be the only person in America sporting those at the gym. She liked 'em just fine. I told her our kids would probably make fun of me but that they like the 32 year old L. L. Bean bag I still have from high school and think I should tote it around at App State, where I probably wouldn't be on campus much, but have recently applied to finish college.
She said, "I know a lot of middle aged people going back to school." I grinned then told her it would be to write. She said, "I write too." Surprised, I said, "It'll probably be toward ministry." She said, "Women ought to talk more to women about those things."
I was still astonished at someone of her generation, when I had asked if she has a belief and if it is in God, then if it is in Jesus, she had a resounding, "Yes," for them all. They weren't cutesy, right answer "yeses," but serious, matter-of-fact ones. She looked all of 15, but she was 19, with a very thin and unassuming appearance, with glasses and lots of dark hair.
I told her what day it was and that I should be getting out to the car but first mentioned a few facts about the miracle of making it this far. I said that a lot of people make excuses, but God. She lit up and said, "'But God', that was the subject of my favorite sermon from my church in Ohio!" I could almost see her recounting it. Then, her face began to flush, as she encouraged me to do the writing. She said, "I'm the only Christian in my family. I just moved out on my own. And it's hard; I haven't had anybody to show me how to be a Christian."
I immediately identified with her and asked her if I could hug her neck. Her face was splotched with red. I didn't even know her name but I had to find out so that I could pray for her. And I told her that I would. And I will. Because it matters. All these encounters, they matter. As a matter of fact, they're all that matter, conversations that bear witness that our LORD is on His throne, as are thirty years of marriage between two fleshly, immature, passionate people evidences that God is real and that His Word still stands.
He had an out of town doctor's appointment for his first annual check of his pacemaker. So, we were on a "doctor date," I call it. I think that's pretty common for anyone who has a chronically ill family member.
Since we were nearby, he took me to my favorite restaurant. And as we were leaving, I asked him if it would be bad of me to run by my favorite shoe store, the buy one, get one half off kind, to finish getting geared up for my return to the gym. Actually, I haven't done anything significant in the gym other than work there and tell other people what to do, since I was a member of the Racquetball Club in high school.
He patiently sat in the car while I went straight to the men's athletic isle. My feet are so wide, I don't even look at the women's anymore. I settled on a pair of throwback Reeboks and asked the girl packing boxes on the next isle if I'd be the only person in America sporting those at the gym. She liked 'em just fine. I told her our kids would probably make fun of me but that they like the 32 year old L. L. Bean bag I still have from high school and think I should tote it around at App State, where I probably wouldn't be on campus much, but have recently applied to finish college.
She said, "I know a lot of middle aged people going back to school." I grinned then told her it would be to write. She said, "I write too." Surprised, I said, "It'll probably be toward ministry." She said, "Women ought to talk more to women about those things."
I was still astonished at someone of her generation, when I had asked if she has a belief and if it is in God, then if it is in Jesus, she had a resounding, "Yes," for them all. They weren't cutesy, right answer "yeses," but serious, matter-of-fact ones. She looked all of 15, but she was 19, with a very thin and unassuming appearance, with glasses and lots of dark hair.
I told her what day it was and that I should be getting out to the car but first mentioned a few facts about the miracle of making it this far. I said that a lot of people make excuses, but God. She lit up and said, "'But God', that was the subject of my favorite sermon from my church in Ohio!" I could almost see her recounting it. Then, her face began to flush, as she encouraged me to do the writing. She said, "I'm the only Christian in my family. I just moved out on my own. And it's hard; I haven't had anybody to show me how to be a Christian."
I immediately identified with her and asked her if I could hug her neck. Her face was splotched with red. I didn't even know her name but I had to find out so that I could pray for her. And I told her that I would. And I will. Because it matters. All these encounters, they matter. As a matter of fact, they're all that matter, conversations that bear witness that our LORD is on His throne, as are thirty years of marriage between two fleshly, immature, passionate people evidences that God is real and that His Word still stands.
Friday, June 21, 2019
Be Sober
Drinks, drinks everywhere. My husband figures it's because people don't want to think of how much they're spending on their vacation and because they probably don't much like the person they're with. I have to give him that.
This week has been our first trip to the beach in six years, and even that was a disaster relief deployment. This week was also our first alcohol free vacation. I have to give him that, also.
We had no plans for a vacation this summer, until one of our daughters accepted a job as a beach lifeguard. Her Daddy wasn't "having it" without going to inspect. Turns out it's a reputable company that's been there a long time. The interesting thing is that there are hardly any Americans. The owner said that their American lifeguards are "lazy." Instead, they have foreign exchange students from all over Europe and Russia. Our daughter is the only American girl. She has YMCA life guarding certifications and work experience that must've paid off. Her past swim team experience gave her the power and drive to swim the mandatory test, 500 yards in under 12 minutes, having practiced for less than a week.
The day after we arrived we set out to find her at her post. She hadn't returned from lunch, so we got to talk with her Polish trainer, who says he makes more money here in half a year than he can with his degree in his home country, which he returns to for the winter months. He also said after working with her for a couple of days that she works harder than the last couple of guys he's trained. After feeling more secure about her environment, we could relax a little and enjoy the beach and the pool with our younger two. Then, my husband decided our daughter with the twins ought to come, also. So, that child of ours packed up their stuff in about 15 minutes and drove four and a half hours by herself, arriving well after midnight, so the babies could go to the ocean for the first time, since they didn't have a plan to vacation either.
Her husband stayed behind, still mourning the loss of his grandmother, who passed just after the babies' second birthday party was underway last weekend. He kindly said they ought to go. For the most part, we shored her and the babies up, and while we were busy enjoying their excitement, our youngest daughter was making a friend, from Ukraine, no less. They played for hours. Then, I finally met her six foot tall mother. She was quick to let me know that she had a limited English vocabulary, although they'd been living in the states for over three years. She's a stay-at-home mom and says even when she is out with other moms, they really don't talk to her.
She was so very happy to have someone to communicate with. She told me so. I asked if they had only the one girl, and when she answered, "Yes, we have been trying for more than nine years, but I thank God for her," I was pretty sure she was a fellow believer. So, I asked and she said, "Yes, how do you say it, 'Baptist?'" I utterly loved hearing her talk, although she was often frustrated with herself to find the right words. When I couldn't figure out what she meant, she would look away and whimsically say, "Never mind."
Our girls wanted to go to the beach that night, so her husband and mine, and she and I got to talk while the kids looked for treasures in the sand and sculpted faces in it. I asked her about church in Ukraine, and she said, "It is Orthodox." Then she touched her heart looking for words and came up with, "Their heart is closed to God ...but our church in America, their hearts are open to God," as she looked up to the sky. "I learn so much about God since I have been here."
After the fireworks, we were walking back up to the hotel and she had her daughter interpret for me, "My mom says, 'You make her feel so free to talk.'" I take that very seriously, especially considering they are here on political asylum, because of Russia's invasion of the border. Freedom probably means a lot more to her in so many ways than it does to me.
Last night, our girls wanted ice cream and to swim once more, but since a storm had blown through, it was too cold and windy outside. So, we sat indoors by the heated pool. Loud and hot as it was, I couldn't let her departure go by without a prayer. I still feel uneasy taking charge of such a sacred thing, but I held her hand and before I could start, she smiled at me and said, "Thank you." After the fact, I realized I may have spoken too quickly for her to understood me, but God did. And if there is one thing I have learned, it's that when we obey, God listens.
And this is why we need to be sober on vacation and everywhere, because we just never know when these things are going to happen.
This week has been our first trip to the beach in six years, and even that was a disaster relief deployment. This week was also our first alcohol free vacation. I have to give him that, also.
We had no plans for a vacation this summer, until one of our daughters accepted a job as a beach lifeguard. Her Daddy wasn't "having it" without going to inspect. Turns out it's a reputable company that's been there a long time. The interesting thing is that there are hardly any Americans. The owner said that their American lifeguards are "lazy." Instead, they have foreign exchange students from all over Europe and Russia. Our daughter is the only American girl. She has YMCA life guarding certifications and work experience that must've paid off. Her past swim team experience gave her the power and drive to swim the mandatory test, 500 yards in under 12 minutes, having practiced for less than a week.
The day after we arrived we set out to find her at her post. She hadn't returned from lunch, so we got to talk with her Polish trainer, who says he makes more money here in half a year than he can with his degree in his home country, which he returns to for the winter months. He also said after working with her for a couple of days that she works harder than the last couple of guys he's trained. After feeling more secure about her environment, we could relax a little and enjoy the beach and the pool with our younger two. Then, my husband decided our daughter with the twins ought to come, also. So, that child of ours packed up their stuff in about 15 minutes and drove four and a half hours by herself, arriving well after midnight, so the babies could go to the ocean for the first time, since they didn't have a plan to vacation either.
Her husband stayed behind, still mourning the loss of his grandmother, who passed just after the babies' second birthday party was underway last weekend. He kindly said they ought to go. For the most part, we shored her and the babies up, and while we were busy enjoying their excitement, our youngest daughter was making a friend, from Ukraine, no less. They played for hours. Then, I finally met her six foot tall mother. She was quick to let me know that she had a limited English vocabulary, although they'd been living in the states for over three years. She's a stay-at-home mom and says even when she is out with other moms, they really don't talk to her.
She was so very happy to have someone to communicate with. She told me so. I asked if they had only the one girl, and when she answered, "Yes, we have been trying for more than nine years, but I thank God for her," I was pretty sure she was a fellow believer. So, I asked and she said, "Yes, how do you say it, 'Baptist?'" I utterly loved hearing her talk, although she was often frustrated with herself to find the right words. When I couldn't figure out what she meant, she would look away and whimsically say, "Never mind."
Our girls wanted to go to the beach that night, so her husband and mine, and she and I got to talk while the kids looked for treasures in the sand and sculpted faces in it. I asked her about church in Ukraine, and she said, "It is Orthodox." Then she touched her heart looking for words and came up with, "Their heart is closed to God ...but our church in America, their hearts are open to God," as she looked up to the sky. "I learn so much about God since I have been here."
After the fireworks, we were walking back up to the hotel and she had her daughter interpret for me, "My mom says, 'You make her feel so free to talk.'" I take that very seriously, especially considering they are here on political asylum, because of Russia's invasion of the border. Freedom probably means a lot more to her in so many ways than it does to me.
Last night, our girls wanted ice cream and to swim once more, but since a storm had blown through, it was too cold and windy outside. So, we sat indoors by the heated pool. Loud and hot as it was, I couldn't let her departure go by without a prayer. I still feel uneasy taking charge of such a sacred thing, but I held her hand and before I could start, she smiled at me and said, "Thank you." After the fact, I realized I may have spoken too quickly for her to understood me, but God did. And if there is one thing I have learned, it's that when we obey, God listens.
And this is why we need to be sober on vacation and everywhere, because we just never know when these things are going to happen.
Friday, June 7, 2019
All to Him I Owe
Sitting by the garden, waiting for the rain, my husband reminded me of the newest preconception brought out by his old hunting truck paired, no less, with his old overalls. He's started taking our youngest son to the high school's football workouts. And at a prior activity with the athletic director, he was rather dismissed, having driven up in the beat-up, old Toyota.
The whole purpose has been to get our son on the team but only on campus for two classes, as our state's new law allows. As far as we know, he will be the first homeschool student in the county, at least at that school, to try it out. His older brother went as far as an out of state boarding school to continue in sports. One older sister went full-time public high school in order to participate, which did not go as planned. So, we hope and pray that this "marriage" will be suitable for our younger son.
Every Christian parent should consider while their children are participating in youth, public team sports that they might get good enough to play in high school, then college, which lends itself to the desire of participating at the highest level, and that is unlikely at a small, private, Christian institution, scholarship or no. So, there your young adult is, on scholarship at a publicly funded university, the system feeding your child that which is "right in his own eyes," just as in the days of the book of Judges that the younger two and I finished up yesterday.
So far, our older children have had the wherewithal not to subscribe to farfetched ideologies, willing and able to debate the teachers. But the student culture is where things get hairy, especially in the subculture of team camaraderie: the music, the language, the "activities." All these things are insidious for a young person away from home who has no one to answer to at the end of the day but the team.
And that's where you hope you still have some influence to encourage that child who is continually in close proximity to what amounts to Paganism (many participants professing Christ, yet denouncing Him in deed) to take some sort of stand, because the student's sitting back and tolerating it is only a lie to tempt them into the "it's not so bad" excuses.
And before they know it, they're one of "them." The truth is that the Christian is either growing or withering. We don't get to make up the option of just standing still. Influence or be influenced.
And that is what we are wanting to convince our younger son of.
"Yes, you're the new guy. But when the coach asks if anybody has music they want to play, speak up...," just like he did yesterday here at home in our daily reading, giving special attention to this verse in John 7, "Judge not according to appearance, but judge righteous judgment."
It is easy to pin that one on the athletic director, since he had a better attitude when he saw my husband drive up in the newer car and in better clothes, or newer overalls anyway. But we all do this to some degree, fair as we may be.
God is perfect in this though. Acts 10:34-35, "Then Peter opened his mouth, and said, Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons. But in every nation he that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him." Just now, after looking up "respect," I find three definitions before the one most similar to the Bible's, "deference to a right, privilege, privileged position, or someone or something considered to have certain rights or privileges." God does not have "respect" of persons, of positions of authority, yes, but not "respect" among people who believe. So, why do we? And why do we change the term "fear God" to "respect God?" Fearing God is understanding that he is the ultimate authority, the final say, the all in all. So, please do not change my Bible to say that I ought to respect God. I have much more than that for Him. I defer all things to Him and to Him all things I owe.
The whole purpose has been to get our son on the team but only on campus for two classes, as our state's new law allows. As far as we know, he will be the first homeschool student in the county, at least at that school, to try it out. His older brother went as far as an out of state boarding school to continue in sports. One older sister went full-time public high school in order to participate, which did not go as planned. So, we hope and pray that this "marriage" will be suitable for our younger son.
Every Christian parent should consider while their children are participating in youth, public team sports that they might get good enough to play in high school, then college, which lends itself to the desire of participating at the highest level, and that is unlikely at a small, private, Christian institution, scholarship or no. So, there your young adult is, on scholarship at a publicly funded university, the system feeding your child that which is "right in his own eyes," just as in the days of the book of Judges that the younger two and I finished up yesterday.
So far, our older children have had the wherewithal not to subscribe to farfetched ideologies, willing and able to debate the teachers. But the student culture is where things get hairy, especially in the subculture of team camaraderie: the music, the language, the "activities." All these things are insidious for a young person away from home who has no one to answer to at the end of the day but the team.
And that's where you hope you still have some influence to encourage that child who is continually in close proximity to what amounts to Paganism (many participants professing Christ, yet denouncing Him in deed) to take some sort of stand, because the student's sitting back and tolerating it is only a lie to tempt them into the "it's not so bad" excuses.
And before they know it, they're one of "them." The truth is that the Christian is either growing or withering. We don't get to make up the option of just standing still. Influence or be influenced.
And that is what we are wanting to convince our younger son of.
"Yes, you're the new guy. But when the coach asks if anybody has music they want to play, speak up...," just like he did yesterday here at home in our daily reading, giving special attention to this verse in John 7, "Judge not according to appearance, but judge righteous judgment."
It is easy to pin that one on the athletic director, since he had a better attitude when he saw my husband drive up in the newer car and in better clothes, or newer overalls anyway. But we all do this to some degree, fair as we may be.
God is perfect in this though. Acts 10:34-35, "Then Peter opened his mouth, and said, Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons. But in every nation he that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him." Just now, after looking up "respect," I find three definitions before the one most similar to the Bible's, "deference to a right, privilege, privileged position, or someone or something considered to have certain rights or privileges." God does not have "respect" of persons, of positions of authority, yes, but not "respect" among people who believe. So, why do we? And why do we change the term "fear God" to "respect God?" Fearing God is understanding that he is the ultimate authority, the final say, the all in all. So, please do not change my Bible to say that I ought to respect God. I have much more than that for Him. I defer all things to Him and to Him all things I owe.
(Originally written in 2019)
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