Category: Family

Fruitful

As the fruit and nuts and leaves fall from the trees around our yard, I can’t help but notice the poignant reminder that our lives, too, have seasons — and they change.  As I reflect on this, I am reminded that the most fruitful season may not appear to be the currant one – even though it may appear so with the fruit that is dropping into the baskets at this time.

I’m looking ahead to the winter when the trees have no leaves or blossoms or blooms and I’m praying this time will be the most fruitful of all.

Fruitful:
a: yielding or producing fruit.
b: conducive to an abundant yield.

So, I’m in prayer that the Lord will continue to shape my life that it will be conducive to yielding abundant fruit.  It may not seem like it from season to season –or even in the moment– but that’s where the being “conducive to an abundant yield” comes in — and that’s where prayer and fasting/waiting on the Lord comes in.

The prunings, the waste, broken limbs, the honeybees, the drought, the water, the shade and, yes, the fruit of my yesterdays all give me great hope for tomorrow.

I’m thankful for the pictures the Lord continually presents me… as He often speaks to me in or through the things He’s put in or taken out of my life.  I’ve seen our children and grandchildren swing from the branches of the willow tree outside our bedroom window and I consider the strength of a tree.  They’ve eaten the fruit of the trees in the garden… I consider the value of a well tended tree.  They’ve seen years where there was no fruit to gather in the baskets… sobered at the value of a well tended tree.

Sometimes there’s no one to gather the fruit — no one to appreciate the fruit… and it falls to the ground and becomes part of the soil.

Mary Thoughts Martha Hands

I just came across a little note in my basket… and thought, this is just what I’m needing!  The reminder to have a Mary heart and a Martha mind was the gist of the note.  I’m personalizing it a bit to be: Mary thoughts and Martha hands.   I must be in the Word and in song in order that my heart and mind are stayed on heavenly things.  I must be in the Word and in song that my hands and plans are stayed on heavenly things — working at or accomplishing good things.

This is such a needful  reminder that in all my Martha-ing around our home, I must cultivate, guard and increase my Mary-ing!    I tend to get sidetracked, and as I get busy – I become myopic and outcome oriented far too often!  I’ve come to understand through a series of different experiences that I tend to focus on the job at hand instead of the people around me.  This is something I daily working to change — daily seeking to re-work in my life and home. I must stop and be Mary — I must stop and regroup remembering that in all my Martha-ing, I need be be Mary-ing along the way.  I often forget to be resting at the feet of Jesus in my work – resting at the feet of Jesus in my planning – resting at the feet of Jesus in my mothering.

Mary and Martha — in case you’re wondering at the reference of this,  it’s Luke 10.38-42

Now it came to pass, as they went, that He entered into a certain village; and a certain woman named Martha received Him into her house.  And she had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus’ feet and heard His word.   But Martha was cumbered about in much serving and came to Him and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Bid her therefore that she help me.   And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things;  but only one thing is necessary, and Mary has chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.

Instead of integrating work and worship, I often live as if the two are different compartments of homemaking.  I need to remember and guard the fact that work and worship must blend — that my work is a service of worship!  Thus: A Mary Heart and a Martha mind – Mary thoughts and Martha hands.

And so when the days are long and the tasks are many, the family is scattered and the schedules are hectic… my focus mustn’t change — my heart mustn’t change — my thoughts must remain the same: He alone is my joy and strength, He alone is my hope and my song.  So, no matter what’s going on around me, I must cultivate this by daily investing time in the Word and in prayer, daily seeking the Lord’s divine guidance and presence — daily seeking and listening to the Voice of the Lord… following His Word, rehearsing His promises, turning away from the lies of the enemy and listening to Truths in song.

May the Lord bless you in all your Martha-ing with a Mary heart and mind.

 

One year ago…

Though in many ways it seems longer, it was a year ago today that the Lord gave us a great gift in the form of a miracle.  We know it was by the grace of God that Timothy, who was deathly sick with cerebral malaria, awoke from a coma.

Our family had been at the Oregon Coast for a family reunion; Timothy had just returned from Ghana, West Africa.  He was sick and getting worse by the day.

After several days and medication for what was thought to be Typhoid, his condition was grave, he was so thin and frail; hardly responsive at that point: we knew Timothy needed to get to a hospital right away.  Clearly, the medication he was taking was not addressing his sickness.  It was there after some initial treatment and many liters of fluids that Timothy was slipping into a coma and the doc in ER of Samaritan Hospital began the transfer plans to have Timothy airlifted to OHSU in Portland.  I wrote the story of this whole miracle — you can read it here.

I don’t really know why I snapped the photo (below) with my cell phone that day… I guess it was perhaps a thought that it would be my last opportunity.  I don’t know.

More from my journal that day: “I cannot be bitter should it be God’s plan to take Timothy.”  I read a quote that afternoon inside Timothy’s Bible, “The sovereignty of God is a precious thing if you’re on the right side of it.”

Later, I wrote, “It’s the middle of the night… the waiting room looks strewn with sleeping bodies — all like me, waiting for news, waiting for the morning or maybe the mourning… It just struck me as the nurse told me to come back in 45 minutes, Timothy might not make it.  We might leave here alone — without him.  The thought leaves me unable to breathe.”

It’s a bright and sunny day… it’s now a year later.  Timothy doesn’t remember much of that week, very little of the time in the hospital after he awoke and now, so much has transpired from that time to this.

Timothy has once again traveled to Mexico, to cities in the States for the gospel tent meetings and just returned from Ghana, West Africa.  There is so much work to do, so many who need the gospel… the Lord is not yet finished with his servant, Timothy.  I’m so thankful.

Mother’s Happy Day 2011

To my precious children… how strange it is to be apart from you this day.  How interesting that the Lord would, in His wisdom, goodness and mercy, have us to be a million miles apart on this day.  But as I have held you in my heart from the day you were born, so also, I hold you in my heart this day.  And I am missing you terribly.

But I also know that the Lord is in the details, having orchestrated this whole trip, this is His doing and it is marvelous in our eyes.  I genuinely rest in complete joy and assurance that you are in the mighty hand of the Lord: that He has blessed, redeemed, equipped and filled you, each one with His Holy Spirit and that none can pluck you out of His hand.  I am comforted that you are competent beyond my comprehension and blessed beyond my greatest  hope and vision for your lives.  I am, above all women, most blessed.

I pray that I might be to you even a particle of the great joy and blessing you are to me.  I pray to be even a glimmer of the hope you are in my life and I pray to be even a shadow of the good things the Lord has done, and will do, in and through you.

So, this mother’s happy day 2011, I ache missing you — often picturing each of your beautiful faces.  And I once again thank you for the great privilege it is and has been to bear you, to care for you, to pray for you, to know you and to look forward to the days ahead for each one of you.

Thank you all for your patience with me, for your forgiveness for my many failings and shortcomings – for my shortsightedness and distractions.   I sincerely thank you for your forgiveness.  Thank you for the encouragement you have been both for me and to me.  Thank you for bearing with me in the recent past as choppy waters have flooded my life/our lives, actions and thoughts.  I’m grateful to you, each one, for standing with me all these years… but most of all for the honour it is and has been to be your mama.

I praise the Lord for the opportunities of your lives… and for the undeserved, immeasurable and inestimable blessings in mine.

And… yes, you can go open your gifts.  God bless you more and more. Happy mother’s happy day to each one of you.

with love and thanks,
mama

And ye know in all your hearts and in all your souls,
that not one thing hath failed of all the good things
which the LORD your God spake concerning you;
all are come to pass unto you,
and not one thing hath failed thereof.

The Birthday Card

I received such a beautiful card yesterday.  It was a birthday card — but yesterday was not my birthday — well, not technically, anyway.

But in a way, it was my birth-day, for twenty-five years ago yesterday I gave birth to our first daughter — third child, first daughter.  As I look back, nothing and everything prepared me for that day.  O, it wasn’t the gap between her birth and the birth of the son five years previous — though it was.    It wasn’t that I knew I was to have a daughter — I didn’t know that;  it wasn’t that I was surprised to be having a baby — though I was, initially — for I had prayed for years to have another baby — but years went by; no baby.  I guess, in reality, what I was unprepared for was the absolute, astounding, overwhelming joy I experienced that day. The stunning joy and practical disbelief that washed over me at the hearing: it’s a girl… it’s a girl. Crying, I repeated the refrain, it’s a girl, it’s a girl.  It’s a girl!

The Lord gave me a gift that day — a gift for which I was and am so undeserving.  The inestimable value of the gift of that child remains to this day a mystery to me.  The child I prayed for was not the child I received.  You see, I didn’t then, and do not now, have the capacity to pray for such a gift.  And so my request was insignificant compared to the answer I received.

A few weeks or so before her birth, I began to write down names…. O, the oft rehearsed list of favourite names came easily to me.  But then one Sunday morning, during the singing of a hymn in church, a word in the chorus seemed to ring out so boldly to me: Grace… grace… God’s grace… Grace that will pardon and cleanse within… Grace… grace… God’s grace… Grace that is greater than all our sin.  My hand resting on my round tummy — the baby moving within… I heard & sang the words: Marvelous, matchless, wondrous… infinite grace… freely bestowed on all who believe…

Grace… I stood there… praying:  Lord, I prayed, if this is a baby girl, then one of her names will be Grace… and I will tell her about You.

So, you see, nothing and everything prepared me for the gift of the baby girl that day, twenty-five years ago.  Space and time do not allow for the recounting of the ways the Lord has blessed me through the years in the gift of this ‘baby-girl.’  As I told her again yesterday, were it not for her, I’d never have made it through the years.  I meant it:  I don’t  know how I’d have made it were it not for her.  What she has given me, what she taught me, what she has been to me, I can never repay. Her gracious, tender, generous ways — her eagerness, thoughtfulness, industriousness and a host of other gifts all wrapped up in merciful loving-kindness carried me through motherhood.

Perhaps only another mother of many could understand the significance of what I’m saying here.  I had this daughter’s loving support and help… year after year.   Perhaps only a mother who tried to do to many things and had many things slip through the cracks will understand what I’m saying here.  I had this daughter’s tireless encouragement.  I had this daughter’s enthusiastic help.  And then, perhaps only a mother who failed to stay focused, failed to keep priorities straight, failed to daily live in tender devotion to her children, will understand the gift of a daughter who remained loyal and merciful.

So when I opened that card yesterday… I cried.  I cried with joy. I cried with sorrow.   I cried with regret.  I cried with thankfulness that God, in His mercy, has redeemed me, has restored the years the locusts have eaten, has given me new hope, new zeal, new passion, new eyes for motherhood… though I so often didn’t even see my lack, didn’t even grasp my blindness to so many things.  I don’t know how the days will go… I don’t know how some sorrows will be corrected in life, I don’t know how some losses will be redeemed, I don’t know how some bitternesses will be sweetened, I don’t know how some brokenness will be mended — but I do know this — back when “my world” came crashing down around me and I wondered if I would ever have joy again; I wondered if we would ever smile again; a few things happened:  the first, and most important was that God gave me a new heart.  Sincerely, that was most significant.

But one of the other things that happened in those days, was that this daughter, this gift from the Lord, this  grace in my life, stood by me.  Stands by me still.  Her encouragement… I can never repay. O, how I recall crying to her in those days — sorrowful that I had been insensitive to her, sorrowful that I so often didn’t see her — just saw what needed to be done. I sort of became such a perfunctory mother.  This daughter helped me to see all this so clearly, so tenderly.  I owe her a debt of gratitude I can never repay.

And so yesterday morning — undeserving, I opened the card — the birthday card — and I read the beautiful sentiment of gratitude, a gift from this daughter; this precious daughter, the wind beneath my wings… this gift of grace from the Lord.  Marvelous, infinite, matchless grace.

I smile tonight… thankful to the Lord for the long journey.  Regretful for some of the days behind me…  but Hopeful for the days ahead.  Rejoicing at what He has done.  To God be the glory.

Happy Birthday ♥ sweet girl.

 

 

Birthday Princess

Today is not my birthday.  Yesterday was not my birthday.  The day before yesterday… was.  Yet, I woke up yesterday expecting that it should still be my birthday – you know,  treats, party hats and special treatment.  I call this the birthday-princess mentality.  It happens.

The birthday princess mentality is kin to other princess mentalities — you know, the date-princess, the shopping-princess, the napping-princess.  You get the idea.  It’s as if whenever some delightful thing/event/outing happens, it ought to continue happening, I mean, I am the birthday (or whatever) princess after all.

I woke up this morning to the reality of Monday, and like most Monday’s, I felt the night’s sleep was entirely too brief and the morning came far too soon.  The morning was ushering in the day that held much to be done.  I knew much was on the list of to-do’s — but I was still feeling  too-special-to-work — and then came the nearly startling reality: What? It’s not my birthday?!?!

I must accept the reality that birthdays are a once-a-year deal.  Regrettably, it’s only once a year the birthday princess can wear her tiara (and get away with it).  At Claire’s the other night (on my birthday) I was looking over the displays of barrettes and hairbands and noticed a beautiful diamond tiara.  Setting my handbag down and adjusting the tiara on my head, I whispered, psssssst,  to my husband and daughter in another part of the small shoppe.  They were amused.  They did not buy me the beautiful tiara.

I knew at that moment I had few precious hours left to be the birthday princess.  Even still, no tiara.

Just to clarify, I’m not talking about the princess complex (though I think we all occasionally have, or suffer, the princess-complex from time to time). The princess-complex is that overarching need to be found desirable.   The desire to be the darling — the center of attention.  Or, maybe for others (and I’m not referring to this either), the Cinderella complex – you know, the strong need/wish that someone will come rescuing from whatever oppressive/poor/neglected/unloved current plight — that surely there’s a prince out there that will make all the troubles of the world go away and life will be convenient, rich and effortless.

No, the birthday-princess mentality is much simpler that all that.  It’s just the delight in being made to feel special for the day.  The normal routines are sort of set aside.   Maybe that’s why it’s so fun.  Sort of like dressing up, eating fine foods at a fancy restaurant – eating a delicious meal you don’t plan for, shop for, cook or clean up after.  For most of us, it’s not real life — for most of us, the other side is more our daily life — you know, the planning, cleaning, washing, cooking, serving and cleaning up the kitchen afterward.   So it’s the sweet stuff  that makes for the birthday princess dreams.

In reality, some of us can’t really take too much of the birthday princess pampering.  I know it’s usually way too much for me to have the extra attention — to be on the receiving end of the service.  Even more, it’s hard for me not to keep doing or want to keep doing chores.

Our daughter, Kathryn, prepared the most delicious meal the other night for my ‘family birthday’ dinner.   So many delicious foods – she made beautiful hors d’Oeuvres,  salad, roast and baked potatoes; the softest  fresh potato rolls… Omy – sooo good!  And to finish the meal, she served a delicious dessert.  She’d even gotten flowers!!   She made the whole birthday meal look and taste beautiful — it was all delightful.  And as if that weren’t enough, she also prepared an exquisite birthday breakfast for the whole family here the next morning — that was in addition to  a birthday coffee and a special birthday dessert made for our church meal.  All the while she was preparing to go out of town for a couple of weeks — but that didn’t hinder her generosity.

I loved watching her work/create all the different dishes.  Though she often shooed me out of the kitchen, I found it so hard to stand by and just watch.  So, whenever I could, I washed a bowl or scrubbed a pan… trying to shadow her as she cooked.  She told me, no, no, no… it’s your special day – you’re the birthday princess!

And then it dawned on me:  Yes! Yes, I was born to be a princess.  But I was also born to work.

And I’m so glad.

 

 

A special birthday

When Timothy was born, there was a brief hush over the delivery room — enough time for me to realize there must be a problem.  Fearing the worst, I asked my husband if the baby had died.  No, he said, he’s going to be fine.

As Timothy was born, the doctor could see that the cord was wrapped around his next and as he  loosened it, it was obvious that there was also a complete knot in his umbilical cord the hush was their surprise that he was just quiet and still — completely fine.  The team of attendants appeared to be amazed.  The doctor inserted an instrument into the knot, shaking it loose, and then continued to gently massage his little body.  He told me that that knot had been there for many months as that “little guy” must’ve turned himself around and swum through the loop of the cord.

The next morning, as the doctor was making his rounds, he came in to check on me and baby Timothy.  You are so lucky, he said.  And I told him, no… no, I’m really very blessed.  God has been so good to me.  I knew that then.  I know that now.  Out the window that morning I could see a lone daffodil in a planter… the ‘tea-cup’ flower had just opened.  It was a bright encouragement to me — and the site of blooming daffodils continues to bless me over the years – for that  and so many other event’s meanings.

And so, today, twenty three years later I’m still in awe at what the Lord has done in the life of that baby – now young man.  There have been many instances through the years where the Lord clearly marked his life — times of sickness, times of great spiritual growth, times of God’s clear hand of guidance, direction and protection.  From a very young age, this young man had a clear and present awareness of the Lord’s call on his life – a matter that Timothy continually shared with others.

And he has answered that call and for many years has walked by faith in the ministry of the Gospel.

I have no greater joy than
to hear that my children
walk in truth.
3 John 1.4

It is with great joy that we celebrate this son’s birthday today — and, happily, we’ll even celebrate it with him this year as it’s been many years since he’s been home on his birthday!    He flies in late tonight!

We’re thankful the Lord has used him so sweetly in our family… that He’s used him in Ghana and now in Mexico.  Today we’re reminiscing as we recall the many blessings of the Lord through the years, the many ways God’s worked on his behalf, many ways God has uniquely gifted and provided.  We thank the Lord for the many times He’s healed Timothy from various sicknesses, from many bouts of malaria and the many adventures God’s brought him through.  We also recall, with tears of joy and humble thanksgiving, the great miracle of healing the Lord gave Timothy last summer.

Timothy is a joy to me… to us all.  For all of this — for the gift of his life, for him, for all these miracles — we are so grateful to the Lord.

 

Autumn’s ushering in Winter

It’s sure chilly-chilly here tonight!!  The forecast even includes snow!  Suddenly it seems to be just fine to give up wishing for warmer days and working in the garden for the year — for now, baking season is here!   And around our home it’s time for “special requests.”  By this, I mean that it’s time for everyone to submit this year’s favourites for me to bake — or, better said, this year’s update to the list of things “we have to have ________” for Thanksgiving and Christmas!

Confession:  I simply cannot keep track of who likes what and who doesn’t like what for the traditional Thanksgiving meal.  So, I decided a few years ago to sort of announce the menu (though the menu doesn’t change a whole lot) and that’s when I really find out this or that child doesn’t really like this or that menu item.  And then, too, I have a few others who say something like:  we have to have_______!

Some recipes never change and some have sort of evolved as children have aged, tastes have matured and new favourites have come into play.  Some things I don’t make bcz they just don’t taste the same as they used to taste — for example, my dear mother-in-law always used to make the most delicious layered jello salad for both Thanksgiving and Christmas… she’s living far away now and so that dish is just one of those sweet lingering memories.

Some of the must have’s include turkey — of course, fresh cranberry relish, russian cream, potato rolls, sweet potato casserole and… pies.  Lots of pumpkin pies — otherwise, what would they eat for breakfast on Thanksgiving morning??  😉 Each year I’ve been working at making sure there are lots of things from the garden for the Thanksgiving meal.  So, this year from the garden we’ll have carrots, potatoes, pumpkin, pickles, raspberries to top the russian cream, apples & walnuts in the salad and pies.  I’ve been making walnut pies using a standard pecan pie recipe.

Since we have walnut trees and a bazillion walnuts, it doesn’t seem all that prudent to buy pecans — though I must say pecans are pretty tasty!  So… Monday’s the first “pie day.”   Besides those, this year I’ll be adding Swedish Pear and Almond Cream Cake and Hazelnut pie to the dessert menu.  We didn’t have much of a blueberry crop this year and though the blackberries were plentiful this year, we were attending to other things and the blackberries didn’t get picked — so, no blueberry pie, no blackberry pie this year.

I’m so looking forward to this week in the kitchen… thankful for so many things… and the beautiful music in the background.

But another confession:  I do not – do not – like the smell of turkey cooking in the oven.  Or turkey broth simmering on the stove.  But I like cold turkey the day after Thanksgiving.    And simmering cinnamon, cloves and oranges make the kitchen smell soooo sweet.


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seventeen years

teacuppamela.pngIn a moment, in a twinkling of an eye…  it hardly seems possible that seventeen years have passed by since our seventh child was born.  How marvelous the Lord has been to bless us with this son.  How sweet the Lord is.  I am taking the time to write about this tonight bcz over the years I’ve talked to many, many women who’re ambivalent to yield their childbearing to the will and determination of the Lord.

I’ve noticed there’s sort of a point of questioning family size at odd times.  I’ll give you some examples.  Most Christian families would say and agree that the Lord always provides.  And then, most families, at some point or another, face financial difficulties.  Faith is shaken and they question the Lord’s providence.   And their family size.

Another example of questioning might come along with aging.   Birthdays can be odd.  One birthday may come and go with no real fanfare or notice.  But add a zero to a higher first digit and odd things happen. I’ve noticed that twenty-nine year old women, as do thirty-nine year old women, have a crisis of belief as the next birthday approaches — sort of like moving the large weight on the scale at the doctor’s office.  Advancing age (remember 30 is *old* to many women) makes some women feel like they’re past their prime and they’re too old to have children.  These are usually the ages when men and women start to calculate what their own age will be when their last child is twenty.  And, face it, to a thirty year old or to a forty year old, fifty or sixty years old seems quite ancient!

Another point of questioning family size usually comes along at another odd time.  Odd numbered children seem to really grab the attention of mothers and dads.  They might think, ah, we have two… what’s this?  Three children?  Or they might have four children and a fifth is on the way — that seems staggering to some.  But I’ve noticed, in particular, that the tipping point for most families is that seventh child.  That seventh child ushers in a whole new dynamic.   Perhaps it’s bcz at seven children, the size of the family vehicle really becomes an issue.  Bedding and bedroom arrangement becomes an issue.  Seating at the dining table becomes an issue (as did going from four to five and so on).   Sets of dishes, sets of silverware and a host of other things change when a family of eight becomes a family of nine as the seventh child is born.

It seems, though, that it was at the point of the pregnancy and birth of the seventh child, that we seemed to have come to both a very strong conviction and resolute conclusion that the Lord was (and is) Lord of the womb and that it was His to open or to close, His to provide or withhold, His to determine and it was ours to yield to Him.

It was the precious gift and birth of our seventh child that really did resolve for me the questions and concerns about the present and future days being solely in the Hand of the Lord.  So, then, it was in faith that we resolved to not question the Lord or to feel apologetic for His dealing in our life.  I think it was at that point that I knew that I knew He was working in a unique way and that had He chosen one or none or seven children — He, alone, was Lord and He, alone, had the preeminence as the merciful, only faithful, only wise God.

The morning the baby was born, Wes named our son, Stephen — the naming of each of the children is a story for another time — and he prayed that as he grew, God would mightily use this young man for His purposes and that whatever happened to Stephen in his life, may his life be fully yielded to the Lord and may he stand up for the Lord, as a minister of the gospel — faithful to the end.

How grateful I am to the merciful Lord for the precious gift of Stephen, our seventh child, born November 2nd… seventeen years ago.   We’ve surely seen that the Lord’s will, done His way, does not lack His supply.

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