30 Favourite Things #4

teacuppamela.pngSettled.  That’s really how I want to remember my fiftieth year.  Actually, I sure wish I had been — or felt — settled a lot earlier in my life — but I wasn’t — not really.  So, I want to affirm that this has sort of been the year of settling things.  I’ve never really felt all that ‘self-assured’ or confident.  Too often I’ve been swayed or even derailed by what others might think or what others might say about this or that decision or action I might have made or taken .  Therefore, I’ve tended to doubt. A lot.

The years have brought so many changes that one thing I knew I could anticipate for sure was change.   Over the years, as the babies continued to come along, I would wonder if I could be a good (enough) mother to them all.  I’d wonder if they’d remember me loving them when the days were long and the weeks would fly by.  So many changes.  O — from early on I was very settled that the LORD is Lord of the womb — I was very, very settled in my heart that the LORD was the only determinant — for both family size and timing — I just wondered when the next baby would come; that’s what I mean about things not feeling settled.  And then, in the later years, I kept wondering if there’d be one more — and finding myself praying over and over: just one more.But things still didn’t feel settled.

All that wondering led me to, or through, what I have affectionately called my “mid-wife crisis.”   A ‘mom of many’ tends to think that the many will always be there — that pregnancy is the default condition, that nursing’s a way of life and that every year and a half or so a new baby would join the fold and the family would continue to grow and grow — that nothing’s ever settled for very long — from the number of plates on the table, to the number of shoes at the back door to the number of carseats in the van.   And so… that question that every ‘mom of many’ gets:  Are you done yet?  Are you going to have any more?   A ‘mom of many’ tends to answer:  I don’t know – only the Lord knows – the answer is never settled though the resolve is.  And I’m pretty sure most of us thinks the season will go on for a long time.

It doesn’t.

So… this has been the year I have finally reconciled myself to the fact that there won’t be any more — that that season has passed — and I’ll never travel that way again.  Broaching a subject I’ve not addressed here, it’s one of the most significant things a woman faces.  Sounds odd to put  menopause on my list of “30 Favourite Things” doesn’t it?!  There have been *many* things I haven’t liked about menopause — but reckoning with this and settling a season has been important — saying goodbye to the bearing season has been so hard – it’s one of the biggest things I’ve ever faced.   So, the reason I put this near the top of the list is that I have really wrestled with — even fought against this one for many years — our baby will be eight years old in a few months.  It’s been a marvelous, wonderful journey — the childbearing season of motherhood. I’ve been blessed beyond measure and surely through no great or mighty thing that I have done — but that He saved me and then gave me a loving husband and eleven precious children.  I’m in awe.  Ever in awe.

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30 Favourite Things #3

teacuppamela.pngOn the first day of my fiftieth year… my husband’s family began arriving for the funeral and memorial service for his grandmother.  It was a bittersweet day as many gathered to honour her — to pay their respects, laugh, cry, look at photographs, reminisce, sift through treasures and memories and to lay to rest a woman who’d spent her whole life toiling for the Lord and for those He brought across her path.

At nearly one-hundred years old — twice my age — she had lived a very full, very rich life.  However, by many standards, “rich” might not have been the first word one would utter when taking a look at her life. But it was rich.  It was, in fact, very much so.  The faces, the tears, the smiles, the recollections all formed a collage of chapters and stories of a woman whose life had had a tremendous impact on many, many others.  Her life was a gift and she allowed it to be used of and poured out by the Lord. It reminded me: tell people what you think while they’re living — say ‘I love you’ while you can.  Live well as long as you have life!!

I thought then (and have done so many, many times in this past year):  so many people came through the door of her home… many left there: changed – many were saved for the Kingdom of God.   Many came in to help — but left: helped.  Many came to give her gifts — but left with more than they could carry — in their hands or in their hearts.  That’s just the kind of woman she was.  I love that I knew her and I love that I had the opportunity to spend time with her.  I love that I had before me a living testimony of the faithfulness of God.  I love that I saw an example of tenacity and strength – even in weakness – even in sickness.

I love that I saw my husband’s loving interest and care for his grandmother and that he has the same twinkle in his eye she had in hers.  I love that she was a woman of faith and a woman of prayer and that many, many had come to her ‘family alter’ for prayer and stayed there until a matter was prayed through.  The same has been said of my husband’s mother’s mother and mother’s grandmother as well.  It was a very bittersweet grief when his other grandmother died 17 years ago… I had that same sinking sadness when this grandma died… knowing that one less person would pray for me by name every day.  What a comfort that is to know someone’s praying for you by name day after day.

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And so… O, what a legacy of faith my husband brings and now passes to his grandchildren.  And I am so thankful to have begun my fiftieth year in that place… in that way.  It was as if to show me:  this is the way, walk ye in it.

I often think of the prayers of mothers and grandmothers… still ascending to the Throne of Grace — it is a charge to keep.  What a blessing to have witnessed the testimony of faith and to have that path so clearly and beautifully demonstrated before me.

“And the smoke of the incense,
which came with the prayers of the saints,
ascended up before God
out of the angel’s hand.”
Revelation 8.4

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30 Favourite Things #2

  teacuppamela.png Okay… so yesterday I told you that I’d be posting “thirty favourite things” from the last year… things that were big or important to me that I never really wrote about — some of the “life changing” or “significantly impacting things” from my 50th year. And I’ve been thinking that I have so many significant things to share — but what are worth telling — or, more importantly (considering this is a public venue), what are worth reading?  So I’m attempting to tell the stuff that’s worth reading.

June was an extremely busy month and, as such, some of the ‘big things’ that happened were very obscured by some smaller busy-ness – but weren’t small things at all.

Probably one of the most cherished events or most significant events I’ve ever experienced have been the births of each of our children and witnessing the births of our grandchildren.   The incredible gift of life — the experiencing God in the indescribable instance of birth is truly one of the greatest treasures I have or will ever have.  So, then, on the eleventh of June I had the great honour and privilege of caring for my friend who was labouring with her sixth child.  When my husband and I arrived at their home, our friend was in the throes of labour and the waves of pains were wracking her body as the time drew nearer for the birth.  Her husband and mother were there comforting and caring for her.  It became obvious that the midwife would not arrive in time for the birth and more obvious that her husband and I would be the ones to care for her during the actual birthing of the baby.  Continually working with her to give her assurance and comfort, I trusted God to guide our thoughts and decisions. Time, space and propriety does not allow for the recounting of all the (very significant to me) details of this wonderful night.

Surely the presence of the Lord was in that place — great peace was intermingled with the thrilling anticipation of the impending birth.  She was so beautiful and serene there in the warm water and as the baby was born – “in the caul” – into the waiting hands of his father, it was so obvious the blessing of the Lord was on him – on the mother – on the baby – and surely giving me great peace and comfort.  The father is a fireman — but that’s not why I had no fear.  He has helped with births as I have in the past, but that’s not why I had no fear.  I had no fear because the presence of the Lord was so evident.

As the father moved to gather necessary things, I was so honoured to place the baby in the hands of the mother and to hold him there with her so that I could more carefully assess the baby’s colour, breathing and cord.   Everything looked very good as it was a very, very smooth birth (note, I never said very, very easy or pain-free).   But you know… if there was pain, if there was too much or if it was hard, my friend showed none of that.  She was as if to be carried through on the wings of angels — that’s the only way I can describe her beauty and countenance.  I will never, ever forget that most wonderful night.

The midwife did arrive some time later, was pleased with our ‘work’ and completed the care and assessment of the baby and mother.  God had surely blessed that whole labour and delivery and it was very evident to me the prayers of the saints were with us.

I prepared a meal and tea to drink and brought it up for our serenely resting friend… in her arms was the precious newborn Timothy who had been so named for our missionary son.  This was surely one of the greatest honours we’ve ever received.  We prayed and do pray the Lord will bless, guide and use this little 2nd :o) Timothy in great and mighty ways all the day of his life.

When I awoke after a few hours sleep in the morning… I cried with awe, joy and thankfulness at the goodness and mercy of the Lord.  He alone does wondrously and all things well.

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30 Favourite Things #1

teacuppamela.pngHelloooooooooooooo there… I’ve been missing this place.  Or, rather, I’ve been missing from this place.  I have been racking my brain as to what to do to jump back into the blog pool… it’s sort of like exercising… I love it when I am exercising, but I do not like to ‘have to’ exercise — blogging’s like that sometimes — and like exercise (or any other somewhat beneficial thing, I love it.  I don’t love it.  I miss it. I don’t miss it.  If you’re a blogger, you totally know what I am talking about.

So, here I am… and for the next 30 days I will be posting “thirty favourite things” from the last year… things that were big or important to me that I never really wrote about — some of the “life changing” or “significantly impacting things” from my 50th year.

I know, I know… I am going to be pretty much obnoxious concerning my fiftieth year.  I have started a Bucket List…
I’m glad I have been able to do some things on my “bucket list.”  The things I am going to share in the next thirty days aren’t necessarily “bucket list category” type things.

(Yes. I did see the movie.  Yes… I don’t recommend it to everyone.  Or anyone, really.  But I did see it.  And I’m pretty glad I did.  But I am not recommending it.)

So, here’s one of the most recent things I was so glad I did during my fiftieth year — I was most honoured and privileged to make the wedding cake for two people I love — two families I love.  Nathan and Larissa were married on Saturday, February 21st.  And here is their cake:

wedding cake

wedding cake

Each tier was 2 layers… the cake was almond/butter/buttermilk and the filling was raspberry for some of the cake layers and ganache/bavarian for others.   My husband blessed me by helping frost the layers… (the troweling of pools and decks has the side benefit of expertise in troweling frosting cakes.  :o)  And I was most blessed to have my friend, Rhonda, help me as well.  (She even brought the Starbucks coffees — And, No.,  I did not get cup #280.)

All the “pearls” and strings were piped on and the roses and the little Groom and Bride were made from Fondant.  I prepared those a couple of days before the wedding.  The frosting was Buttercream.   The cakes were set on a base of glass blocks which were lighted underneath.  Isn’t that so cool?!?!?   There was a 16″ – 14″ – 12″ – 10″ – 8″ and 6″ top cake and 3 – 14″ side cakes that looked just like these except that I didn’t (for obvious reasons) have them as part of the cake.   Can you imagine?!?!   I had prepared enough cake for nearly 600 people… and there were over 500 at the wedding.  However, that number included babies and children of all ages.    It was a beautiful day – inside and out.  It was a beautiful covenent wedding — Happy Happy Happy day.  Praise the Lord — He is only good.

Loved it.  Can you tell?

#2 tomorrow.

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Abortion’s ugly lie

teacuppamela.pngEvery now and then it happens.  I wonder how many of times this has to happen before this civilized society sees abortion as the heinous atrocity it is.  When will pro-aborts see the truth that abortion is the destruction and death of precious baby – a human life.  Abortion destroys a baby.

Sycloria Williams knows that.   Now.  But she didn’t grasp that before she underwent the procedure that would kill her growing and thriving baby — her baby born alive.  The baby was thriving alive within her womb, was thriving alive outside her womb and then that baby was killed.  That’s what happened.  That’s the truth of abortion and it is just that gruesome. Whether that baby was killed before —or after— it was beheld by its mother — nothing was different about the baby.  It was living, moving, growing, thriving — alive.

It’s odd, really — but not surprising — that Miss Williams would now want to fight what happened to her baby.  O, sure she wanted to end that situation she was facing… sure she might have thought it was a problem to be pregnant at her age and socioeconomic situation.  But her reaction betrays the fact that she mustn’t have thought she was really pregnant with a real b-a-b-y — a real, live human-being.

This is why the sanctity of human life must be cherished and proclaimed and this is why morality matters.   The reality of the preciousness of life matters.

And every now and then reality assaults the senses and causes someone to personally come to grips with the fact that a murder or more happens in every abortion.   Abortion isn’t about the “choice” of a woman or “a woman’s right to choose.”   Abortion is about the death of a baby — a human being.   The account of that article is shocking — but really — consider that abortions are happening every day all across America and if more women were actually educated about the so-called ‘choice’ they were about to make, very few – I’d hazard to say – would make that sickening decision.  Very few.   

It’s as if Miss Williams was shocked by the reality of Abortion’s Ugly LIE.   

O……….. no.  It was a baby — what have I done!?!?!?!  And then, the instinctive mothering nature captures her heart and thoughts and she instantly reacts and hollowly screams:  Noooooooo… what have you done to my baby?!?!?!?!

And for one more baby… it was too late.

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