Category: Essays

A blogger’s loss & gain

teapotcup[cp_dropcaps]H[/cp_dropcaps]ardly a week goes by that I don’t think (or mutter aloud) that this or that blog or twitter account will have a crash.  In just a matter of time there will be an incident or an avalanche of incidents that will take a blogger to an intersection in her life where she’ll be broadsided some Thursday afternoon and she’ll sit on the floor, head in her hands, crying out to God for His mercy.  But for now, she doesn’t  ask for help because she doesn’t know she needs it.  Yet.

Such was the case for me… going to bed most every night regretting all the stuff that didn’t get done that day… only to wake the next morning, hurrying to get enough stuff done to be able to log on, retrieve the messages, hurriedly scan blogs of interest, personally regretting lacking the coolest format and relevant blog topics, hurriedly editing the latest photos for a new layout and then opening the blog “new post” page to start another blog entry.

With new eyes, I see the new styles and formats year after year.  Emails flood my  inbox regarding new programs, site design software, search engine optimization, methods for attracting and increasing traffic, comments, customers, digital image editing, suggestions for link sharing and more.  As I see these things for the few seconds they remain on the screen before they’re deleted, I think of all my years of temptation to be and do more — and now the young mothers who desperately long to have a successful marriage and pinterested motherhood, well educated home-schooled children, pinteresting organized homes and pinterest-perfect meals served on lovely tables in beautiful homes just like the pictures in the best blogs.  I see the ideas, tutorials, instructional and encouragement blogs and I sincerely think it’s amazing how they’ve exploded exponentially over the last few years.  The pictures almost have smell-o-vision and the images seem to be increasingly bigger, better, more than homemaking’s ever been.  All, seemingly effortlessly accomplished.  While blogging.

And for a while the mothers will be able to pull it off…. blogging and living.  Living and blogging. Checking the other blogs.  Sharing links and ideas.  Guest posting. Guest hosting.  I wish I could convey that a mama on the computer doesn’t realize — really does not realize — how much time is passing and what’s being missed and what’s NOT being done in the passage of time.  I wish I could explain that the number of times a mama says Justa sec… Justa sec… only increases.  I wish I could convey just what happens with each “Justa sec” that’s uttered.  [cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]What’s really happening is not what it seems like at the time to the mama.[/cp_quote]  What it seems like at the time to the mama is that she really will hop up and play, or hop up and read that book, that she really will push that swing, see that funny face, play that game.   But what’s really happening, more often than not, is that mindless commands are given, mindless affirmations are made, and in Justa sec, Justa sec… a child (or two or seven) is walking away.  A child (or two or five) is ignored or put off or forgotten.  Then time is too short for that story, that game, that swing, that funny face, that trip to the library.  The hours pass into days, the days pass into months and the months pass into years.  And all those Justa sec’s net nothing — nothing but a little more precious time online.  And then the weary mama sinks down defeated… because at the end of that “Justa sec” is dinner, a spilled cup of milk, laundry, the phone or the door or the diaper or the dentist – fifteen minutes late.  The tensions build, the frustrations increase and troubles start to flow like a river.

And then one day the crash happens.  It may be a literal computer hard-drive crash or a website crash. It may be a failed or broken or damaged relationship.  But a crash happens and the mama gets a wake-up call.  She probably won’t realize in the moment, but then, the dawning of reality crashes over her like a tsunami that precious moments were missed and forever lost.

And the impact of the reality hits her as she crumbles on the kitchen floor.  She gasps to breathe as she begins to catch a glimpse of what’s happened in the space of fifty thousand Justa sec’s.   She’s leveled as she begins to realize the utter waste that consumed her days… that time to push the swing is past. Forever. In the theatre of her mind she recounts all the things forever gone, the pictures she never coloured with the littles,  the funny things she didn’t even realize she missed… that the children stopped asking her to come and see, come and read, come and play… they knew that Justa sec never came.  Justa sec never comes.  Apologies would not make up for all that was lost.  Sorrow wouldn’t restore the days and months that turned into years.  Regret would not rewind the clock.

And in a puddle of tears and a heap of sorrow, she’s pretty sure she’ll never outlive these hard days — these very hard days of reckoning.  But she will.  God in His mercy will answer her cries.  And He will tenderly cover her sorrows.  He can restore what the locusts have eaten.  A blogger’s loss may be another’s gain.

This is my story, this is my song, praising my Saviour all the day long.

 

Desiring God 2.18.13 – reprint

The Day Luther Died

By Jonathan Parnell | Feb 18, 2013 12:00 am

OriginalIn Germany 467 years ago, in a small, backwater town called Eisleben, the shaking hand of a dying man scribbled this simple line: We are beggars. This is true.

Martin Luther died on February 18, 1546. These last words of weakness echoed the life-changing truth he’d unearthed in the Scriptures: we don’t bring anything to the table of our justification. Jesus truly died for the ungodly.

Luther came to understand that if we are to be accepted by God, we need a perfect righteousness we can’t produce — we need an alien righteousness given to us by Another.

But this discovery didn’t just happen. It came after hours of the painstaking study of Scripture. Luther gave himself to the Book, which he later explained as the primary actor in the Protestant Reformation. And a great movement of God in our day won’t happen apart from that same ingredient. Pastors and Christian leaders must be devoted to God’s word.

So we have much to learn from Luther, says John Piper.

Luther was the subject of Piper’s biographical message at the 1995 Conference for Pastors. We’ve since reformatted that message into a five-chapter ebook, which presents a sketch of Luther’s life and distills relevant lessons for not only pastors and leaders, but all Christians.

Get a free download of Martin Luther: Lessons from His Life and Labor (available in PDF, MOBI, or EPUB).

The Truth (About Abortion) Will Set You Free

By John Piper | Feb 17, 2013 12:00 am

Facts help us grasp abortion in our communities. With the internet no one is innocently ignorant. Here are some facts from the Twin Cities to San Antonio. There are no grizzly pictures here. But there are some miracles. I won’t show you what the babies look like after they are killed, but before.

Start with the on-the-ground facts. There are five places to get elective abortions in the Twin Cities, Planned Parenthood (671 Vandalia St.,
 St. Paul), Robbinsdale Clinic (3819 West Broadway, Minneapolis), Mildred Hanson (710 East 24th St., Minneapolis) and two locations of the Whole Woman’s Health (33 South 5th St, Minneapolis, and 825 S. 8th St. #1018 Minneapolis). I encourage you to visit them and pray, or perhaps see if any of the workers will talk with you.

All of them do abortions up to 13 weeks gestation. Here is what the baby looks like at 13 weeks.

Mildred Hanson advertises that she does abortions to twenty weeks. Two pictures show the babies she is willing to dismember.

Whole Woman’s Health advertises that they do abortions to 22 weeks. This little fellow, at 22 weeks, is ready to fight for his life.

In addition, Whole Woman’s Health advertises that their San Antonio facility will do surgical abortions through 24 weeks.

But at 24 weeks babies are being born and thriving. Here are a few examples. (If you want to see the 23 week babies when born and then years later go here.) If you want names and ages check out the L’il Aussie Prems Foundation.

These pictures are of babies born at the age when they are being legally killed. The irrationality of our legal system is that we are expected to believe that a seven inch movement down the birth canal transforms a child from one with no right to life into a person under law with full rights of protection. This is the kind of reasoning that creates Gulags and death camps. Whatever else may be said of these children, if they had been dismembered and evacuated one hour before they were born at 24 weeks, it would not have been tissue that was lost.

I encourage you to do your part by putting the facts before as many people as you can. You will know the truth and the truth will set you free.

Related resources from John Piper:

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Seize Opportunities

Seize the moment to proclaim the gospel of Jesus Christ the Lord.  Our nation may have  gone over the moral cliff and it seems that doors of opportunity to spread the gospel have been closed.   Large numbers of individuals may have rejected God’s moral law, they may, in fact, reject you and the message of the gospel — but the doors are not closed.  The darker the night, the brighter the light of one candle.  Will you seize the moment and share the Light of the gospel to a dark and sin laden world?  You have the life God has given you… how will you use your life today?
Only One Life
CT Studd

Two little lines I heard one day,Traveling along life’s busy way;
Bringing conviction to my heart, And from my mind would not depart;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.
Only one life, yes only one, Soon will its fleeting hours be done;
Then, in ‘that day’ my Lord to meet, And stand before His Judgement seat;
Only one life,’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Only one life, the still small voice, Gently pleads for a better choice
Bidding me selfish aims to leave, And to God’s holy will to cleave;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Only one life, a few brief years, Each with its burdens, hopes, and fears;
Each with its clays I must fulfill, living for self or in His will;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

When this bright world would tempt me sore, When Satan would a victory score;
When self would seek to have its way, Then help me Lord with joy to say;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Give me Father, a purpose deep, In joy or sorrow Thy word to keep;
Faithful and true what e’er the strife, Pleasing Thee in my daily life;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Oh let my love with fervor burn, And from the world now let me turn;
Living for Thee, and Thee alone, Bringing Thee pleasure on Thy throne;
Only one life, “twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Only one life, yes only one, Now let me say,”Thy will be done”;
And when at last I’ll hear the call, I know I’ll say “twas worth it all”;
Only one life,’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

 

Consider the opportunities you might have this Christmas season…

Things aren’t as ___ .

Hey… how’s your day going?  Anybody ask you that yet today?  What’s going on in the theater of your mind today?  I hope you’ll be encouraged on many levels today.

I can’t pinpoint the thing that drew me to remembering this today — to humming this song (The “Sunscreen” song… a piece attributed to Baz Luhrman that he used by permission, originally written by Mary Schmich). If it’s too loud, turn down your speakers… the intent here is not to blare some rappy tune but I hope a few of these life-experience tidbits of advice might be of some encouragement to you.  The thought that things aren’t always as they seem keeps running through my mind today.

Truly, the longer I live, the more I see blatantly, that things aren’t always as _____ as they seem.  You know, the bleak, sad, hard, difficult, long, terrible, fat, earth-shattering… whatever things.  It’s hard to remember this sometimes, though, isn’t it?!?  It’s not until we look at the big picture or the bigger picture that we gain a bit of perspective.  And, ultimately, it’s not until we look at God’s picture — His design — His character — His purposes — His promises — that we gain proper perspective.  Regardless our circumstances.  It only takes a moment of looking back, looking around or looking in the Word to see that our thoughts or perspectives or circumstances are not the only thing going on, not the worst thing happening — or, not the most important thing occurring.  Everybody’s got stuff going on — everyone’s facing challenges or a lot of whatever.  Everyone’s got questions, a bombardment of opinions, decisions, thoughts.  Everyone’s dealing with something.  And, to be sure,  it’s not in a song, a philosophy, a regimen or in whatever or wherever else we might try to find peace and truth.  It really is in the Person of Jesus Christ and in His life and the marvelous Truth of His Word we find all we need for life.  But, in life, when we most need to seek answers, when we most need help we often least ask for, see or accept it.

It is always there…

2Timothy 3.16  All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness:.
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Daffodils… an encouraging story

A Story to bless you today:

Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, “Mother, you must come to see the daffodils before they are over.”  I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead “I will come next Tuesday”, I promised a little reluctantly on her third call.
Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and reluctantly I drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn’s house I was welcomed by the joyful sounds of happy children. I delightedly hugged and greeted my grandchildren.
“Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in these clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see badly enough to drive another inch!”
My daughter smiled calmly and said, “We drive in this all the time, Mother.”  “Well, you won’t get me back on the road until it clears, and then I’m heading for home!” I assured her.
“But first we’re going to see the daffodils. It’s just a few blocks,” Carolyn said. “I’ll drive. I’m used to this.”
“Carolyn,” I said sternly, “please turn around.” “It’s all right, Mother, I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience.”
After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand lettered sign with an arrow that read, “Daffodil Garden.”  We got out of the car, each took a child’s hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight.

It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it over the mountain peak and its surrounding slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, creamy white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, and saffron and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted in large groups so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.

“Who did this?” I asked Carolyn.  “Just one woman,” Carolyn answered. “She lives on the property. That’s her home.” Carolyn pointed to a well-kept A-frame house, small and modestly sitting in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house.

On the patio, we saw a poster. “Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking”, was the headline. The first answer was a simple one. “50,000 bulbs,” it read. The second answer was, “One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and one brain.” The third answer was, “Began in 1958.”

For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun, one bulb at a time, to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountaintop. Planting one bulb at a time, year after year, this unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. One day at a time, she had created something of extraordinary magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration.

That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time–often just one baby-step at time–and learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world …

“It makes me sad in a way,” I admitted to Carolyn. “What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five or forty years ago and had worked away at it ‘one bulb at a time’ through all those years? Just think what I might have been able to achieve!”

My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. “Start tomorrow,” she said.
She was right. It’s so pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays.  The way to make learning a lesson of celebration instead of a cause for regret is to only ask,
“How can I put this to use today?”

Use the Daffodil Principle. Stop waiting…..
Until your car or home is paid off
Until you get a new car or home
Until your kids leave the house
Until you go back to school
Until you finish school
Until you clean the house
Until you organize the garage
Until you clean off your desk
Until you lose 10 lbs.
Until you gain 10 lbs.
Until you get married
Until you get a divorce
Until you have kids
Until the kids go to school
Until you retire
Until summer
Until spring
Until winter
Until fall
Until you die…

There is no better time than right now to be happy.

Happiness is a journey, not a destination.

So work like you don’t need money.

Love like you’ve never been hurt, and

Dance like no one’s watching.


Wishing you a beautiful, daffodil day!

Don’t be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin.

a friend’s anniversary letter

I received this letter… and it’s too sweet to not share with you.
I console myself with this letter — that perhaps one day I will
have a mind to write such a letter. I loved his wife, Florence, even
giving our last baby, our daughter Amelia her name as a middle name…
and I added “Joy” to it because Florence brought me great joy and encouragement.
Amelia bears the name well… as she does for the other woman she’s named after.
Although, I never called Mrs. Pais: Amelia, it was, in fact, her name.

Paul Turnidge writes:

Hello All, and a blessed year ahead.

A year ago today, Florence began a new day in Heaven. By this time she
has joined with Peter, James and John, with Lydia, Mary and all the
friends that have gone there ahead of her. I’m sure she has probably
gotten the gals together and said, “Let’s start a Sisterhood.”

Every day I praise the Lord that she is in Heaven enjoying herself rather
than having to be in a nursing home, sitting in a wheel chair wondering
why she can’t get it going.

Somebody sent me the following prayer:

THE SENILITY PRAYER :
Grant me the senility to forget the people
I never liked anyway,
The good fortune to run into the ones I do, and
The eyesight to tell the difference.

My biggest problem is that I can’t think of anybody I don’t like and my
eyesight is so bad I couldn’t tell the difference anyway.

Hope you’re finding this an encouraging year, and it’s wonderful to know
the Lord never leaves or forsakes us. (Hebrews 13:5)

God bless you all,

Paul

In the life of a blog…

It seems that at some point in the life of every blog there’s a post about blogs in general, about bloggers and why they blog or, specifically, a post about that blog and its purpose.

I don’t know why we do it, but every now and then we do it – we feel the need to amplify our purpose or we feel compelled to justify or defend our writing.

I love words. I love writing. I write all the time.  I occasionally post a few of the things I’ve written.  I have journals full of notes.  I have folders full of messages.  I have a bunch of books in my head that will never be published.  More often than not, I don’t write about the stuff that’s really going on — because too many things include — I mean, most things include — other people. Duh.

If I’ve learned nothing else in the last eighteen months or so it is this:  other people’s lives are other people’s lives.  My interaction, my involvement, my thoughts or reactions or actions or feelings must stringently take into account: other people.   This seems pretty elementary, pretty obvious and pretty shallow at first blush.  But, I assure you: it is not.

We go along thinking things are one way or some way and we find out later that they’re not as we assumed at all.  This is where the “other people” part comes into play.  This is where the experience of other people, the thoughts of other people, the impressions of other people, the reactions of other people completely change whatever it is you thought or felt about a situation.  You hear about, read about what someone else said, thought or felt about a situation or thought or felt about you and suddenly a new reality dawns on you.   Sometimes that new reality is sweet and refreshing and feels good.  Other times it’s not.

And you can never write about it.  Even though you desperately want to.

I say this (this being an entry on blogs, blogging &  bloggers – writers in general) because, face it, those of us who have an insatiable need desire to write usually have a bunch of thoughts on pretty much anything and everything.  Most bloggers have so much to talk about.  And occasionally talk too much.  I probably could’ve or should’ve simply left out the ‘occasionally’ in that last sentence.

But we often don’t talk about stuff, we don’t write about stuff that we’d really like to talk about or write about because lots of things involve other people and it’s more important to guard their hearts (or identity), preserve their reputation or feelings than it is to share our own commentary on the matter.  Most of us have to learn to draw a line regarding public and private information — that, and in some situations, our opinion is not all that important.   Some people have a harder time discerning between the two and too often walk too close to the line.  Or over it.  Problem is, it’s really very hard to know where that line is sometimes.

Foodies have weight problems sometimes.  Wordies make weighty problems sometimes.

In trying to be careful what I share about personal matters, family, sensitive issues and experiences,  I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s been both a blessing and a curse to be the kind of woman who shares stories, draws word pictures, communicates in analogies, etc., etc.  But I’d seriously rather run the risk of being authentically candid and transparent than to be so vague or guarded that my life or writing is misconstrued or deceptive.  There’s so much to say, encouragement to give from lessons learned, praises to share from blessings received.

So… I blog. And this has been one of those confessions-of-a-blogger posts.  Sort of .   I try to be relevant so that your time’s not wasted, I try to be helpful so your time’s well spent.  I confess, though, I must occasionally skirt issues, dance around the pink elephant in the room or try desperately to convey a thought without divulging a confidence.  And I hope I get it right.  I hope more often than not that I communicate effectively.  When in doubt, I don’t write.  Or I delete.  The empty gaps on the blog calendar are not empty gaps in my life.  I write much more than you read.

But when you read The Welcome Home blog I guess I’d like you to know that I hope you feel like I’m just talking stuff over with you here in my kitchen.  In the end I hope this blog’s an encouragement to you – I hope my getting through stuff helps you get through stuff – I hope my hardships become your strengths and I hope my discoveries  add to your life.  More, I hope that you know you have a friend who is praying for you, prays you’ll be inspired to live for Jesus, wants the best for you and really is glad you’ve come by.  God bless you, and thanks for reading.

 

 

If we had to leave in a hurry…

I’ve been thinking of this a little bit lately… what if we had to leave our home in a hurry.  No, not because of an impending flood, but for some other reason entirely.

For a little background, I guess I ought to say that we’re not all set up to survive for 90 days or two years or whatever.  We don’t have a great huge stockpile of anything.  Well, except wheat and pink salt.  We do have a bunch of both.

So, I’ve been sort of glancing here and there in our home — taking a brief mental inventory of what’s important and what’s not so important.  O, and by the way, I guess I should add that some of this thinking has been prompted by a book I was skimming.   Among many things, the author was recommending a pretty dramatic reduction of personal belongings.   In her book, SHED Your Stuff, Change Your Life, Julie Morgenstern tackles some key areas I’ve been seeking to work on in my life – from practical or physical treasures to clutter and time management.  She recommends taking a personal survey (at her website) to help identify personal strengths and weaknesses.  In addition, the results of the survey will also identify simple or challenging areas for needed improvement or change.  The SHED stands for: Separate the treasures,  Heave the trash, Embrace your identity, Drive yourself forward.  It’s not, obviously, a “Christian worldview” book — thus the skimming.

Well, back to the “what would I grab” thought.  You know how people often say that they’d grab their photos and other mementos should the house catch fire?  Well, I’ve thought about that a lot, too.   But in assessing this situation lately, I’ve been thinking, which photos??  Should I take all of them?  Which ones would I leave behind?  I’d love to be able to say that I have them all organized into special books for each child, special occasions and family events.  But no.

Then, what about all the shelves of books?  Then I thought of the special letters, cards, and gifts I’ve received from dear family and friends.  Ahhhh… but which ones would I bring?  Which ones — as in boxes — would I leave behind?   Besides my Bible, what books would I bring?  How many journals would I bring?  My computer — would I just bring my laptop?  Would I leave trinkets, jewelry, and teacups behind?  What about all the other stuff??  And, our children would take cues about what’s important in life as they witness our attention given to the most important things.  So, what would those things be?

Well, I know it would truly all depend on where we were going and if we’d never be coming back.  And, yes, if we were only driving one vehicle away.  So then, my thoughts zero in on the very, very practical:  What will we need to wear, to drink, to eat, to read, to cover up with for sleeping and what’s the most practical way to carry it all?

Since we live right next to a river and a levee,  we’ve faced these questions in a very literal and practical sense already — it sort of makes it a bit easier.  But then, obviously, we’ve always come back home.   But what would we take if we weren’t coming back home?

What if you had to suddenly leave your home… what would you take?


The Disney, Halloween and Barbie Phenomena & Indoctrination

teacuppamela.pngLike the unannounced, quiet entry and the subtle dominance of the abortion indu$try, so also, I believe was the gentle entrance and indoctrination of acceptance and embracing of magic. No, not that magic was new – by no means – especially when we consider God’s Word and His dealings with magicians, sorcerers and diviners throughout; but the universal acceptance and endorsement of magic introduced by Walt Disney is predominately accepted and permanently etched in history and in the daily lives of countless millions. Just consider one of the most common family vacation dreams or destinations… Disneyland or Disneyworld.
I was briefly scanning Doug Phillips’ blog and his comments on the role and influence of Walt Disney in and on our society. He said,

quotebegin.gifThe scope of his cultural legacy is truly massive, impacting everything from our nation’s vision of childhood, family life, and gender roles, to the meaning of a happy family vacation. But his legacy — both positive and negative — has largely gone unexamined by Christian theologians, cultural warriors, and filmmakers.”

I remember something like sixteen years ago our family had the great, or so I thought at the time, great privilege of going to Disneyland for two days as our boy had won a contest and subsequent trip to Disneyland for his family.   It was amazing.  (Our stay with our family was my most favourite part of the trip! I will never forget those days!).  Anyway, It was to our children, the trip of a lifetime… a dream come true.  Just like Magic!  In so many ways, it really was a delightful time and was matched only by the wonderful warmth, sunshine and family time we thoroughly enjoyed – it was actually quite surreal as the vacation time was so opposite our life and difficult financial circumstances at that time.

But there was another thing that happened during that trip to the “Happiest Place on Earth” — it was the inescapable, unparalleled feeling of oppression and darkness. The realization that magic isn’t cute – it’s deadly and it’s counter to or in opposition to God’s holy Sovereignty. It was that feeling that led to my personal decision to never go there again and to never promote “Disney stuff” in our home. I’m not afraid of it – I’m not a disneyphobe… I just won’t endorse it. There are gray areas, I suppose, to the actual outworkings of this decision, but overall, it’s the back magic, the “white magic” and the fairytales and all that goes with all of that could never/can never have a place in our home again. Though, quite honestly, subtle forms of magic and fairytales present themselves from time to time in our lives. I mean… I am sure I was born to be a princess… and, well, I am.

So, the decisions regarding Disney stuff came some years after our questioning and decision to have nothing to do with halloween. It’s not a cute day… it’s not ‘nothing.’ It’s not innocuous, it’s not innocent, and it’s not just a fun day to dress up. Dress up and play games tonight, if that’s the only motivation. But to ‘c-el-e-b-r-a-t-e halloween’ and ‘trick or treat’ is devilish foolishness. So what if people come to the door looking for free candy… you don’t have to take part in the day in any way… unless the Lord gives you some prompting to just talk to everyone that comes to your door and tell them some Good News … that way you won’t add to their decay… decay in their teeth or decay in their life. I just forget the day entirely – and make it a point to avoid shopping at stores in October. Especially thrift stores.

It’s interesting how things sort of come along in groups… sort of like getting understanding about a matter and it all spills over into other areas, activities or thoughts. Those things sort of all coincided with the decision to eliminate the cultural icon, Barbie, from our home, too. At first, she was so lovely… so fun to play with. I mean, I had Barbies, so they must’ve been okay… was my justification. But then I got to evaluating the doll… her dress(es), her appearance, her lifestyle and her face… her eyes… those alluring eyes… her immodest clothes… and I decided that her appearance, her lifestyle was actually counterfeit… it was counter to the lifestyle, character and qualities of biblical womanhood we were teaching in our home… so: out she went and all her stuff, too… her strapless gowns, her pink convertible and the promotion of her carefree lifestyle.

It was freeing to be able to replace all that stuff with things we wanted to teach and promote in our home… babydolls and items that promoted care and concern for babies, for motherhood and nurturing a family. It was delightful to promote what God was teaching me: respect for modesty, the role of women, wives and mothers, and to be able to communicate that to our daughter and then as each daughter came along, to teach them, as well.

In many ways, much of Disney, Barbie, halloween… and whatever other forces of darkness that are evident around us are all subtle indoctrinations of the enemy of God… the enemy of our souls.

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A few decades

More or less. That’s what we have on this earth: a few decades, more or less.

teacuppamela.pngAnd I’m beginning to see that the more or less depends not so much on length of time or number of decades as the use of the days and time in each decade. My friend sent me a song… “A Life Profound” by Mica Lee Williams. I listened. I listened again.  Because we’re not really familiar with her music,  I’m not sure I, or my friend, would likely recommend all of her music or style or spiritual position… I just don’t know. But there’s something about the song…  And I decided to listen to it/read it in light of the LORD – in light of Scripture.

A Life Profound

quotebegin.gifThere is a reason for believing in the seasons
To know that spring will always come around
It’s to begin again though there seems no means to this end
Before one lays a body down
But things that die and wither soon will find new roots and tether
To gather strength beneath the ground
I think that
Far too many soon forget the sound of their own laughter
Far too quickly we move swiftly towards the ever after
But I will stake my claim and I will find the rapture
Of a life profound
I cannot manage to estimate the damage
Of holding deep regret that seeks to pull us down
I see my life as a vessel traveling swift and light
I seek my wrongs to right where I run aground
And the wind that fills these sails speaks metaphors and fairytales
That never fail to set me safely down
I think that
Far too often we forget exactly what we’re after
And far too soon we skip the book to read the final chapter
But I will savor in each moment I can capture
Of a life profound
When fortune wheels spin around it’s good to stay in the middle of it
Cuz yes luck she is a tricky one, but there is joy in the riddle of it
And all that can be lost in another way can be won
And there in lies the meaning.”

 

I listened again and mull over the message… ” all too soon we forget exactly what we’re after… far too soon we skip the book and read the final chapter… but I will savour in each moment I can capture… of a life profound.”

I quit listening… but the message continues to play in my head. Am I missing the here and now for what was and what I fear lies ahead? Am I skipping the now and am I forgetting what I’m to be after? Is there any deep regret that’s pulling me down? I know… lately (for for a long lately) I’ve been pretty involved with this post-childbearing season. I’ve been pretty preoccupied with the loss… the passage of time. I mean I should’ve seen all this coming… I mean, I did read Gail Sheehy’s Passages in the 70’s and I should’ve seen these seasons coming. But I didn’t. I didn’t see a lot of stuff coming. Not really.

I’ve often asked the LORD to use my life to make a difference. I don’t want to be ordinary and I don’t want to pass silently through life never making foot prints in the sand or heart prints on people’s lives. I don’t want to have had the great gift of life and then wasted it. A I surely don’t want to have wasted the greatest blessing of all: motherhood. I want to have had a life profound.

I don’t want the ‘p’ of my first name to simply be an initial that stands for my given name.  No… I want it to be more than that. I want to have been patient. present. pleasant. practical. passionate. private. provocative. peaceful. prolific. poised. prompt. proved. polite. productive. plentiful. prayerful. pardoning. prudent. pondering. playful. persistent. philosophical. pure. and profound. and phunny.

But most of all… I want my life to matter to and for Jesus… for these few decades I have on this earth.

(thank you, Kelli, for the song – I do love you)

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