I write what I’m learning… I share what I see, what I experience, what God is teaching me.  You know; through a [...]]]> You know I’ve written about internet addition… e-mail… group list mail addiction… AOL… Geocities… One-List… eGroups… screen addiction… information addiction… whatever could be looked up… early on: Ask Jeeves. Bling.  Ask him… ask him anything.  Then Yahoo, then Google… click, click, click… Bling.  You’ve got mail… Bling!  Click, click, click… Blogs! Bling!  Facebook. Bling! Pinterest. Bling!

I write what I’m learning… I share what I see, what I experience, what God is teaching me.  You know; through a series of trials, disappointments and losses I was presented face to face with the reality that I was/am an internet addict.  By the grace of God and through the love of my husband, I had to face this reality and, after some time had passed, learn to make changes — and when it was obvious I could not be self governing, I had to have boundaries — literal restrictions — placed on my computer.  Like a drug addict, I am powerless over media.  And… like a drug addict, I didn’t realize what was going on around me, nor did I realize I was causing others to resent me — the time I was spending online and the time I  was not spending with them.  And guess what the fruit of this was/is?  Yes… in many ways, family and friends addicted to media.  That is not sweet fruit.

So… I implore you today.  Get fences.  Get restrictions on your media.  Get pruned.  Get staked.  Learn to live within the boundaries so that you will be more fruitful, more fragrant, more productive… You’ll see.  And you’ll be amazed.

Two years ago, when I handed my computer to my husband, I knew I had to come to grips with internet addiction/family hurts and my walk with the LORD.  Then, months later, when I had worked through and walked through where I was, what I’d done and what I needed to do: my one hour’s use per day almost seemed like a worse prison than no computer use per day… but that time was actually a school of prayer and more repentance, more revelation of what had happened (and why it happened) and what needed to happen.  What I thought was a punishment was a blessing.  What I thought was too hard was actually a marvelous mercy.  What I thought was too restrictive has become my greatest freedom.

Now, as in this little window of allocated/measured time, I have freedom — permission — blessing — to use this computer and I can choose to use the time to browse,  listen to sermons, to research,  to read/write devotionals, blogs, connect with my children and friends… bcz I’m in step with the plan for my days.  It’s freeing.  This humbling limitation has given me so much assurance and freedom.

It’s joked about sometimes around here — this restriction — and it reminds me of people’s comments to me early on when we only had one vehicle for many years and my husband was gone all day.  I could walk to the store for my groceries — returning with what could be carried or hung on the stroller.  It was freeing to me to not “run around” in the car — to plan my days and outings, to live within those boundaries.  I didn’t always know it and probably couldn’t appreciate it.  But I know and appreciate it now.  These things affirm to me that God never wastes a thread.

So, what’s pulling on your apron strings?  You know… the thing or things that nag at you or that seem to be pulling at you from one direction [...]]]> That might sound like a strange title to a message I want to share with you today, but perhaps by the time you finish reading this letter, you’ll have an idea and perhaps realize some things you’ve been wanting to take care of for some time.

So, what’s pulling on your apron strings?  You know… the thing or things that nag at you or that seem to be pulling at you from one direction or many.  You may be attempting to work around your home and keep having interruptions or distractions that prevent you from accomplishing what’s really needful.  You may have plans or schedules, or wish you had plans or schedules, and yet every day something, or many things pull on your apron strings and prevent you from meaningful or notable accomplishment.

I know I have these same feelings or experiences from time to time –sort of as if nothing seems to go right or nothing measurable ever seems to get done. It’s as if at the end of each week I have relatively little to show for my efforts and certainly none for the fatigue I might be feeling.  Yet, my apron’s dirty and the strings are raveled at the end.

Over the years I had great ambition for great things.  I wanted to spend time individually with each of the children each day; I wanted to spend time reading aloud, fixing their hair, assisting them with schoolwork, chores and prayers.  I had lofty aspirations that we would do projects, tell and record stories: that I would pass on valuable stories, life-lessons and a rich heritage…

But then, many days –most days– I would come to my bedside and realize that, once again, yet another day where I’d failed to reach my glorious ambitions.  Instead, we had just spent another day –another hum-drum day.  Together.

Pulling at my apron strings were all the wouldda, shouldda, couldda’s and few of the atta-girl’s, way-to-go’s and wahoo’s of life.  At the point I realized that all those marvelous and coveted accolades were simply unrealistic, I also realized I truly was getting all those atta-girl’s, way-to-go’s and wahoo’s of life.  I truly had them… I just wasn’t seeing them, that’s all.  I wasn’t seeing the “atta-girl” in my son’s: “Mom, will you fix this for me? I can’t do it.” Or, in my daughter’s: “Mama, you’ve got to write down these recipes for me or I will not ever be able to cook like you!”  Or, “O, my mom will do it for you, she’s right here!”  Or,  probably the sweetest gift of all I just received and it was contained in a letter, reading: “Mama… You are the best friend I’ve ever had.”

See, I missed the blessings by being concerned
about the unimportant things or on my failings
instead of what really was most important for that day.

Often, pulling on my apron strings are all the things I’ve done wrong as a mother, wife or friend.  Pulling on my apron strings are the things I don’t do well or the things I don’t have (as compared with my friends) or all the ways in which my children don’t *seem* to measure up (again, compared to others’ or compared with a high ideal or whatever).

Everyday, nagging thoughts creep in and occasionally pull me here and pull me there… and even get me all tied in knots sometimes over the silliest things – all tied up over things only the LORD can take care of or only the LORD knows about.  Sometimes all tied up over things I *imagine* to be so.  And then, I stop and think:  wait a minute… should these things be pulling at my apron strings, pulling me down in despair?  Should I be letting those thoughts come in and flood my mind, or should I take those thoughts captive to the obedience of Christ.

I know this to be a truth: I have never given to the LORD –any thought, desire, motive, whatever that was then rejected by Him.

He has never yet, will never, can never: fail me.  So then, I consider at thought or a pulling on my apron strings and I ask: is this of You, LORD? Or I say, I know this is not of You, LORD, and so I ask You to take this thought, desire, fear (or whatever), from me and I ask You to guide my thoughts, guard my heart and mind and help me to see only You.  Please hide me behind Your Cross, LORD.

O, sure, other women are going to have bigger, better, more than you or I; and sure, other families are going to have newer, brighter, more attractive homes, children, lives, accomplishments, etc., etc., than you or I.  But you know what?  They don’t get to be you—they don’t get to be me.  You’re uniquely you created by God, saved by Him unto faith and good works.  He loves you with an everlasting love and underneath you are His everlasting arms and in you is His eternal Spirit and surrounding you is His eternal joy of salvation in Christ Jesus.  Wow.  Now those are some pretty wonderful things.  Did you know you had all those treasures tucked in the pockets of your apron?

So, next time something starts pulling on your apron strings and you know it’s not simply one of the little blessings the LORD has given you, you just reach in your pocket and pull out one of the Truths of God’s Word and His love for you.

The LORD hath appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn thee.
Jeremiah 31.3

For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war after the flesh: (For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strong holds;)  Casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ;  And having in a readiness to revenge all disobedience, when your obedience is fulfilled.”   2Corinthians 10.3-6

I pray the LORD will just bless you and bless you over and over and that you will be assured of His great love for you and that He will guide your steps and guard your thoughts.

always in His hands, love,  pamela

Last year, the year you’ve heard me describe as [...]]]> I know.  I’d probably grimace if one of my kids started an essay: “Stuff’s going to work out.”   But, it’s on my mind today: stuff — and how it works out.   But I want to begin by saying: stuff’s probably not going to work out how you thought it would — or even how you hoped it would — but, truly, in the end, stuff’s going to work out.

Last year, the year you’ve heard me describe as the most sorrowful year of my life,  I heard a song… it was one of two songs that so resonated with me that I played them over and over and over again.  Hymns and psalms and spiritual songs minister to my heart, they lift my thoughts heavenward and they seem to dispel the darkness of doubt and despair.

Over and over in my head I would hear the words, It’s going to be alright.  I knew this — because I knew that God only does all things well — but I also didn’t know this — do you know what I mean?  I didn’t know – know – know this because of what I was *seeing.*  What I was seeing looked to be anything but alright.  But in my wrestling, I knew the it was so big God must be in it.  In my wrestling I knew that none of it had escaped His gaze and that He would work it together for good.  He could not do anything other than that.  And I knew that.   But for ninety-seven days I struggled.  Struggle still.  Sometimes.

On the night that my whole world seemed to come crashing down around me I didn’t see that it was going to be alright.  I didn’t see how it could be alright.  Through a series of events, that led to one of our children leaving home for ninety seven days, I learned to see, believe, trust and hope in God as I never have before — and what I didn’t know at the time was that God was, indeed, using that event as an instrument to both chasten and strengthen me — to both humble and lift me — to crush me and to fill me.  I needed all of that — I needed it much more than I needed to know that it was all going to be alright.  What I needed to know was something I thought I knew but didn’t.   It was something I taught I knew but didn’t.  Maybe that’s a bit harsh — I guess, in reality, I knew as much as I knew of that truth — but I didn’t know as much I know of that fact now.

That child was longing for love, attention, time, affirmation… and I was busy.  I was distracted.  I was doing good things but not best things.  And that child went away — to my great shame, regret and sorrow — but by the grace of God returned ninety-seven days later.  Returned home, broken, completely restored and strengthened in faith and was genuinely welcomed home — such a beautiful testimony of the mercy and grace of God.  I, on the other hand, very humbled, broken and filled with such regret and sorrow, was still trying to gather up the shards and pieces of my life.  I am only now beginning to understand all that the Lord had for me in that lesson.  And,  I so do not want to miss anything He had for me in that very expensive and painful lesson — and though I’m not speaking financially at all, it was, truly,  a very costly lesson — I cannot afford to miss what He had, or has, for me in it/through it.

I won’t elaborate on the details of those days — but I’d like to say that the lessons I learned in that valley were and are very, very precious and have given me great hope and great faith in the Lord’s dealings with me — with us all.  He showed me, in so many ways, how resourceful and creative He is.  He showed me that none can pluck one of His little ones out of His hand.  He showed me that He cares for my child — my children — more and better than I ever could and He showed me He loved that little one… and never shifted His gaze.  And He loved me, too.  No matter that I did not deserve His mercy and His love.  He showed me that He loved me too much to leave me where I was – going on the track I was going.  I needed that correction.  I needed it so much.

One thing kept ringing through — I knew for certain all through that dark valley was that I was going to to need what I received there – I was going to need that faith, that hope and that trust in God.  I didn’t know how, I didn’t know why and I didn’t know when — but I knew I was going to need it.  I said to myself over and over: you’re going to need this.  You’re going to need this one.

And I did need it — not only for the following, but for many things since:  Only a couple of months later…  it didn’t take long and it wasn’t at all difficult to figure it out  when our missionary son returned from Africa – and then the following week lay sick in the hospital — in a coma, very sick with cerebral malaria.  It was then that I knew that I knew… the Lord truly is all I have and all I need.

It’s a real risk sharing stuff sometimes — but I think it would be pretty selfish not to.  If you barely hanging on… if you feel like you’re sinking in too deep… if there’s some pain that’s tearing you apart, then, would you cast your cares upon the Lord Jesus — would you trust Him that it’s all going to be alright — that He truly is going to work everything together for good — for your good and His glory.  He who cannot lie — cannot fail.  And He, who loved you first… loves you still.  And stuff’s going to work out.  Really… you have His Word on it.  Maybe not like you thought and not like you hoped… but stuff’s going to work out.

The words to the Sara Groves song: It’s Going to be Alright

It’s going to be alright, It’s going to be alright

I can tell by your eyes that you’re not getting any sleep
And you try to rise above it, but feel you’re sinking in too deep
Oh, oh I believe, I believe that

It’s going to be alright, It’s going to be alright

I believe you’ll outlive this pain in you heart
And you’ll gain such a strength from what is tearing you apart
Oh, oh I believe I believe that

It’s going to be alright, It’s going to be alright

When some time has past us, and the story if retold
It will mirror the strength and the courage in your soul
Oh, oh, I believe I believe,

I believe, I believe

I did not come here to offer you cliche’s
I will not pretend to know of all your pain
Just when you cannot, then I will hold out faith, for you

It’s going to be alright, It’s going to be alright

And then someone comes along and after hearing part of the [...]]]> You’re never as right as you think you are — and — you’re never as wrong as you think you are.  Deep down, I know this — and you probably know this, too.  But we, too often, get stuck dwelling on our dilemmas or grieving over our losses.  We get stuck, too, in maintaining our ‘rightness’ and fail to stop and consider our ‘wrong-ness’ about a matter.

And then someone comes along and after hearing part of the story,  illuminates the darkened or obscured side of the matter.  And then we see, much to our regret, that maybe, just maybe, we’ve been wrong about that matter after all.  Wise counsel is invaluable.  Impartial counsel, even more so.

If you remember this next week and you’ll be miles ahead of the pack.

But the pack just might still believe they’re more right than you.  Maybe they’ll even think that your wrongs are worse than their wrongs.  Worse yet, maybe they’ll convince you to believe that your wrongs are the worst wrongs. That last one’s usually the devil, by the way.  Most of us a pretty good at defending our right to be right.

Truth is, the answer is usually somewhere in the middle — but we’re usually too right or too wrong to see that.

When these different scenarios happen to me — or happen in my life — I don’t usually want to do the necessary.  The necessary is to look at the situation from their perspective.  And then to ask the question:  is there any truth in this? Usually I’ll find that, yes, there is a smidge of truth — just a smidge.  If that’s my finding, then I’ve learned that sometimes I’m being too prideful to objectively consider the problem.  I then need to ask a next question and it is this:  if they were me and I were them, what would I think? Hmmm?  Hmmm.  Perhaps I am wrong.  Okay, yes, I am wrong.

When I come to this revelation, then I know I’ve got to do whatever I can to make that situation right.   Regardless the outcome, I need to, so far as it depends on me, do whatever it takes to make the situation right.  I need to get myself in such a state as that I am not seeking to defend my rights or to point out their wrongs.  And, that’s so NOT easy sometimes — especially when we perceive we have a legitimate reason for our behaviour or that that person has some of their information wrong.

There’s always more to the story.  More to a situation than meets the eye.  And usually,  we’d both come to the same conclusions had we all the facts in the beginning.

In a houseful of various personalities, you’ll have lots of opportunities to practice these experiences — lots of occasions to instruct others about them, too.  I have found it’s so much easier to teach this to others than to experience this personally.   But I can relate these lessons to others, though, because I know them experientially.

Just remember:  You’re never as right as you think you are — and — you’re never as wrong as you think you are.

[ Because of something I might have [...]]]> That’s how the stories usually begin… that’s how they usually come tumbling out of mouth of a woman sitting beside me.  The story is actually prefaced with: Can I talk to you?  And after I say, Of course, hot tears seem to well up in the eyes of  the one who desperately needs to tell someone — someone who will listen, someone who will understand, someone who will care.

[ Because of something I might have shared there in a talk or because of the "safe-feeling" of the setting - maybe it's after a Bible study, a Ladies' Tea or at a Women's Retreat -  I think women know they can talk to me; they know I will listen, they know I will understand and they know I will care.  What they might not know (or believe) is that not only will all those things be true, but I will also pray with and for them.   I'm so glad for these opportunities.  I marvel how the Lord's continually brought to mind many women I've talked with over the years. And   though I might've forgotten their name - I still remember their stories, I still remember their faces and still care that they shared their stories with me.  And I pray for them.  These opportunities are some of the ways the Lord has shown me that what the devil intended for evil, God intended for good -- for my good and His glory. ]

And so, their story usually begins something like this:  I’ve never told anyone this before, but when I was eleven (or what ever age) my step-father (or uncle or brother or neighbour or family friend, etc.) sexuallyabused me.  I didn’t know it was sexualabuse at the time, but he told me not to tell anyone… and I knew it was wrong,  but I was so scared and I knew there would be trouble if I told anyone… but I can’t live with this secret anymore.  This secret is killing me.  I just can’t keep this in anymore.

Even if she told one person initially,  she’ll usually remain pretty silent after that.  Maybe only ever just hinting at a problem. Because the fear remains.  And then shame moves in and brings along shame’s traveling companion: guilt.  She wonders how could that have happened?  And then she resolves, that will never happen again!  But she remains silent.  That silence lasts for years — creative coping mechanisms sort of carry her through; she learns to adapt to fear and insulates herself from further abuse… she becomes adept at stuffing her emotions, masking them or pretending they don’t exist.  Lots of denial, lots of shame, destructive habits and character issues.  Doubt and fear become second nature and, generally speaking, it will be a long time before a girl or woman will ever divulge what happened.

And for most of us, sooner or later, a breaking point washes over us and we  find trust in someone and can finally say: I’ve never told anyone this before but…

And there’s some strange comfort in the telling.  It’s not the same smug wielding of power that comes when a child says: I’m telling! to a sister or friend who took the last cookie or whatever.  It’s a different  — a freeing revelation — one that looks fear in the face and says: you cannot hurt me anymore. It’s one that takes that secret and blows it to pieces, saying:  It’s out… the secret’s out.  The secret isn’t secret anymore.

And after the telling… after the woman’s straightened herself in the chair, wiped her tears and has taken a deep breath, she looks up and, maybe for the first time, experiences a small bit of relief  — knowing that :  now someone else knows and now someone else cares — finally, someone understands.   I totally understand.  And, truth is, lots of “someone’s” understand.

At this point, I usually ask the woman (if she’s married) if she’s candidly talked with her husband about this.  And, actually, such is usually the case — women have usually at least told their husband.  But if not, I always suggest that’s the next person to talk with and I pray with her that by the grace of God, she will do that right away.   I always feel like I wish I could somehow convey to a husband, in advance, hey, your wife’s got a very, very heavy burden to reveal to you… you already know deep down that she has some deep seated hurts – some wounds and scars that need attention and healing.  And you’re going to need to be ready to bear this burden with her…but I don’t and so, with trust in the merciful Lord, I mentally give the matter to Him.

If the woman is not married, then the matter is wholly different — and prayer for wisdom and understanding is the first measure to take.  And then, very special attention to working out with her, talking her through the revealing, through the facing of the truth — to parents or whomever is ‘responsible’ for her care.

In the end, I sure pray she will carry through and will be believed when she says, I’ve never told anyone this before, but…

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 [...]]]> 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.

JACK (age 3)  was watching his Mom breast-feeding his new baby sister… After a while he asked: ‘Mom why have you got two? Is [...]]]> My mama sent me an email this morning… I laughed at the different quoted comments and thought I’d share them with you.  As I type this, I find myself stunned that I am old enough to hear such questions or statements from my own dear children *and* grandchildren.  My-o-my, How did I get so old without growing up!?!?

JACK (age 3)  was watching his Mom breast-feeding his new baby sister… After a while he asked: ‘Mom why have you got two? Is one for hot and one for cold milk?

MELANIE (age 5) asked her Granny how old she was.. Granny replied she was so old she didn’t remember any more. Melanie said, ‘If you don’t remember you must look in the back of your panties.  Mine say five to  six.’

STEVEN (age 3)  hugged and kissed his Mom good night. ‘I love you so much that when you die I’m going to bury you outside my bedroom window.’

BRITTANY   (age 4)  had an ear ache and wanted a pain killer. She tried in vain to take the lid off the bottle.  Seeing her frustration, her Mom explained it was a child-proof cap and she’d have to open it for her. Eyes wide with wonder, the little girl asked: ‘How does it know it’s me?’

SUSAN (age 4)  was drinking juice when she got the hiccups. ‘Please don’t give me this juice again,’ she said, ‘It makes my teeth cough..’

DJ (age 4)  stepped onto the bathroom scale and asked: ‘How much do I cost?’

CLINTON   (age 5) was in his bedroom looking worried when his Mom asked what was troubling him, he replied, ‘I don’t know what’ll happen with this bed when I get married.  How will my wife fit in it?’

MARC (age 4) was engrossed in a young couple that were hugging and kissing in a restaurant. Without taking his eyes off them, he asked his dad: ‘Why is he whispering in her mouth?’

TAMMY(age 4) was with her mother when they met an elderly, rather wrinkled woman her Mom knew. Tammy  looked at her for a while and then asked, ‘Why doesn’t your skin fit your face?’

JAMES (age 4) was listening to a Bible story. His dad read: ‘The man named Lot was warned to take his wife and flee out of the city but his wife looked back and was turned to salt.’  Concerned, James asked: ‘What happened to the flea?’

The Marketing of Evil by David Kupelian. A [...]]]> This book is an invaluable resource:

The Marketing of Evil by David Kupelian.
A powerful book.

I’ve noticed there’s sort of a [...]]]> In 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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