Second, though this may not be helpful, you’re not alone and your situation or your  “dilemma”  is not unusual.   The devil may [...]]]> Dear Sister,
First, I want to thank you for writing — for it is in acknowledging our condition and in seeing our need that we can best affirm and apply, by the grace of God, the help or teaching we receive.

Second, though this may not be helpful, you’re not alone and your situation or your  “dilemma”  is not unusual.   The devil may attempt to tell you otherwise, but what you’ve written is common to women who both come home from the “work-force” *and* who’ve been trained otherwise.  The “trained otherwise” is the main problem — not the new daily routine of being home and not out of the home.  That will be the easy part once you accept the calling and seek to define and live it.  You will define it as you go — and you will live it as you define it.

The “it” is the high calling of being a keeper at home… the main tree of motherhood.  Incidentally, motherhood doesn’t relegate a woman to never leaving the home or never having “outside” work — there are likely seasons where one or both of these will happen — but it is my understanding that the season of child birthing, nurturing and training necessitates that mothers stay home to heed the calling the Lord has placed on her life and carry out and do these things.  Radical feminists will argue the point.  But I will continue to defend the Scriptures that call a mother to be a keeper at home, to love her husband and her children, to be discreet, sober, good, chaste, obedient to her husband — seeking all of these — that the Word of God be not blasphemed.

Psalm 113.9  He maketh the barren woman to keep house,
and to be a joyful mother of children. Praise ye the LORD.

As to the question of not knowing what to do.  Here’s an exercise that might be helpful for you.  It will take you some time, so you might print this off so you can address it when time allows.  Here is the exercise:

• List all the outcomes you desire (so far as it depends on you) for your life?
• What kind woman do you want to be remembered as being?
• As for your walk with the Lord, how do you see that worked out in your daily life?
• How can you work these attributes into your daily life?  What do you need to implement?
• As for your behaviour and character what specific qualities to you most highly value?
• As a wife?  As a mother?  As a companion?
• What sort of atmosphere do you seek as a description of your home?
• The appearance of your home?  The flow and routine of your homelife?

You may never have had the instruction to be a “godly woman” or a “keeper at home” or a “homemaker” or a “mother.”  But I think you might agree that you do have an idea what this looks like or a dream of what it might be like.  That’s what I’m asking you to consider — that’s what I’m asking you to ponder as you go through the days ahead.  Yes, you may not know what to do – exactly – today, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have any idea.  You may not know the paints, the colours, the hues, the brushes and blades used in painting a portrait, but you’ve seen the portrait or, at least, you’ve imagined it.

Yes, you may have been “instructed otherwise ” and, therefore, you need to spend some time reevaluating, rethinking, reorganizing your thoughts about motherhood and keeping a home — that’s what that “exercise” above is meant to address.  You may be mourning the loss of time — the robbing of your time and purpose as a wife and mother.  Don’t let the devil deceive you that it’s too late.  If you’re still living, it’s not too late.  Don’t ever forget that.  The devil will deceive you to believe otherwise.

That crafty devil’s playbook is very thin — he doesn’t possess many tools or ideas — so he plays them over and over and over again.  The longer you live, the more you’ll see this.

May you always be blessed.

Remember, you are a book that’s being written every day… and your husband and children are reading it.  Your story, in part, is defining their lives.  Let the Lord be the author and finisher of your faith.

You may resent (as many women do) that no one ever told you the truth [...]]]> (This is part 2 of the post What’s a mother to do?)

Remember, you are a book that’s being written every day… and your husband and children are reading it.  Your story, in part, is defining their lives.  Let the Lord be the author and finisher of your faith.

You may resent (as many women do) that no one ever told you the truth about marriage, wives, motherhood and being a keeper at home.  You may also resent that you were persuaded to pursue a career or led to believe that a “professional” career is of more worth than “just hanging around the house all day for the rest of your life.”  And, given that scenario, I just might agree.  But motherhood — true motherhood — and being a keeper at home isn’t at all about “just hanging around the house all day…”   That’s another reason for the “exercise” above.   True motherhood is a God-given, God ordained gift — this has to be, and become to you (and me), more than rhetoric — more that pious words.  This is truly — truly — a very high calling.

And so there’s another thing I’d like to suggest is that you clean the slate — clean the slate of bitterness, resentment, disappointment you may be feeling toward your husband, mother, family and friends who instilled the “otherwise” teachings in your life.  That regret or even anger against people or things will not allow you to move ahead in the way the Lord has planned for you.  His plan is infinitely greater than you can ask or imagine.

Yes, motherhood and being a keeper at home is a cycle of dailies — and, yes, the dailies are *so* daily.  But they are the rudimentary things God uses to refine us.  They are the building blocks of character and training we need and we need to instill in our children.  They are the stuff  of love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness and self-control.  And all of these things give motherhood its glory and define its purpose — and they are the things we must yearn for and  seek in and through our lives and the lives of our children.

You may have been trained otherwise, but you’ve got something going for you that can dispel that training and replace it… you’ve got a picture of what you want (and what you don’t want).   The title of that picture is haven and time.  You know you want a haven for your husband and children.  Stop for a moment and ponder what that looks like.  You might keep that word in mind as you fill out some of your answers to the questions above.  The second word, time, is also important to remember as one of the priorities you already know you have (or want to have).  You want to have time for your children.  It, too, will be important to remember when answering the questions.  How will you spend your time in order to have or make time available for your children.  I think you might also be implying that you want your children to remember you as their mama who always had time or made time for them.  This will be important as you set up the routines of your day.

Schedules are very hard to implement and maintain in a home,  but routines — daily set routines — priorities are the set activities of each day; these are things we see that we accomplish each day.  You know the phrase goes something like:  Fail to plan = a plan to fail.  So, that being said, start today… take a step of faith.  Begin with prayer:  Lay all this before the Lord, lay proverbs 14.1)down your life before Him… give Him your sorrows and regrets; give Him your plans and desires; yield to His calling on your life.  If you will commit your way to the Lord, He will direct your steps9.  I know this to be true — I’ve lived this and for me this is not rhetoric but truth — a wise woman builds her house….  When I deviate from this, I fall. I literally fall and utterly fail.  And a house comes down with the foolish mother.  I know this personally and truly — thus I press on and part of my calling is to tell other mothers the truth, to show other mothers that the Lord is Faithful and True and His Word does not fail.

I hope this will help you today… I will think on this further and will write to you again.  You know, the very fact that you wrote tells me you’re off to a wonderful start.  I guess I’d add:  take in the Bread of the Word, eat well, plan well, listen to praise music – not jarring music, get sunshine, seek every single day to find good things… good things to say, good things to think, good things to remember, good things to do for your husband and children.  Their future (and yours!) really and truly depends on decisions you make today and every day.

This may, at first blush, seem harsh — but let the thought sink down in your ears — I say all of these things today at the door of my 34th wedding anniversary. I’ve experienced the fruit of good and bad decisions — good and bad branches and vines.  You know,  good and bad seeds both grow — that’s really a hard reality to grasp and to face — but it’s the truth.  When I’ve neglected things, been distracted over things, been lazy or careless, lost my focus or given the bulk of my attention to things that didn’t pertain to the task at hand, the seeds planted in those times have yielded bad fruit — weeds — noxious weeds –  branches and bitter fruit that needed to be pulled, pruned, burned and/or destroyed… even now, I must be vigilant to watch for roots of bitterness or selfishness of those times and even in these days and take the necessary — painful, humbling and difficult — steps to cut them out.  When I’ve cultivated the soil and have planted good seed, when I’ve invested and have been eager, working diligently, heartily, cheerfully, purposefully and graciously, the blossoms have been fragrant, the branches strong and the fruit sweet.  That’s what I pray will be the result of your life: sweet fruit.

May you always be blessed.

Nearly 6 years ago I wrote a letter to the father who raised me… the man who married my mother, adopted [...]]]> I’m going to write a part of the rest of the story today.  You know how Paul Harvey used to close his commentary — just before that seemingly eternal pause before he’d say (or seem to say it in the form of a question):  good. day.; he’d say: And now you know… the rest of the story.

Nearly 6 years ago I wrote a letter to the father who raised me… the man who married my mother, adopted me (and my brother) and two years after that, he took me down a road that would, on many levels, totally change my life.  I would eventually receive salvation in Jesus and I would marry and move far from that home and decades would pass.   The letter I sent him was returned to me.  It was not the first letter I wrote to him, nor the first to be returned.  It was, though, the first letter I wrote to him in which I detailed the many painful events of sexualabuse and sincerely sought to offer him my forgiveness (even though, generally forgiveness is given to a repentant person) and prayer for his salvation & faith in Jesus.  I posted the contents of that letter online when it became apparent to me that he would not read mail I sent him.  Later I would send him a postcard with the address for the letter.  Though others acquainted with him responded, he never responded.    With the passage of time I found myself wondering how I would react if/when he did respond.  I recall gasping one day, a year ago, when a business acquaintance of his emailed me — and through some exchanges, I would learn that there were other people seriously and negatively affected by the man I once called, Daddy.  I wondered how I would react if he called.  I wondered how I’d react were I to hear news of his death.

Now, I want to say that I recognize that whenever a person tells their story, they’re telling someone else’s story, too — and some stories are painful.  Some are intended to inflict pain.  This blog entry is the former and most certainly is not intended to be the latter.  Through the years I’ve come to realize that God has used my life, my experiences and my candidness to relate to other women, to encourage other women and to offer hope — encouragement that there is hope and healing in Jesus, hope that others have passed this way, too, and hope that there are brighter tomorrows after tragedy, loss, rejection or failure.  I have experienced all of these to some degree or another and I know there is hope and joy and life on the other side of mountains and valleys.  There is  hope in Jesus.

Over the years I’ve wondered how I would react to the news of the death of the father who raised me.  You know… I always thought I’d be relieved.  I always thought I’d have “closure” (whatever that is).  But whatever I thought, I didn’t think I’d have the reaction I did.  And, I’d never have believed I’d respond as I did  — I responded by calling his wife ( this is not my own mother, to be clear, he and my mother were divorced 33 years ago) — to simply ask if he had been redeemed by the blood of the Lamb.

I had the wonderful privilege to join my husband on a business trip last week — a trip I now know was part of the masterful handiwork of the Lord.  I needed that time.  I marvel that my husband would have a week of work in the winter in a distant location and I would have the opportunity to spend the week walking and talking with one of my oldest, dearest and most loyal friends.  I believe it was marvelous preparation for me as I would receive a couple of letters first thing the next morning after returning from that business trip.  Many, many times in my life I’ve experienced an unusual or strange working of the Lord — God’s remarkable work or provision — just after or just before a trial.  Never the same work… but always unmistakably the work of the Lord.

Such was the case this past week.  The subject line of both email letters was the same… the  name of the father who adopted me as a little girl — the man who, for twelve years, I called: Daddy.   I was not prepared for what I would read.  The first I read, was in the form of a sort of arresting statement.  The second, a question.  Both would convey he had died — kicked the bucket was the phrase one writer employed to tell me the news.  Not surprising, really, for that man had experienced great loss, as a business professional, years ago.  The passage of time hadn’t softened his opinion nor dimmed his view of the man.   The other letter would contain the obituary — the incomplete obituary.  In death, as in life, truth was covered over.  I should not have been surprised, but I was.

In my letter to him six years ago, I wrote:  You’re where you are today because I never told on you.  The letter didn’t garner the reaction I hoped it would — and news of his death didn’t bring the consolation I thought it would.  I’m still glad I wrote the letter.  I’m sorry he never answered it.  I’m glad my story has given so many women the courage to face their abuser.  I’m sorry I’ll never know if the abuser repented or if he spends eternity in heaven or in hell.  Child sexualabusers die. Memories of child sexualabuse does not die.

I never thought I’d react the way I have.. to the news of The Rest of The Story.  You might think I’m wishing ill on him — But I assure you, I am not.  God’s worked such a work in my heart that I sincerely hope that, in the end, he chose eternal life — that in the end he chose Jesus — though I doubt that was the end of what seemed to be such a pitiful man, I sincerely hope that  salvation was the rest of the story for him.

Ezekiel 43.10-11  Thou son of man, show this house to the house of Israel that they may be ashamed of their iniquities; and let them understand the pattern. And if they are ashamed [...]]]> Throughout this past week, I’ve been steeped in thinking of patterns and pieces and things fitting together and how God creatively and masterfully gathers pieces of our lives from here and there — new and old — and fits them together according to His pattern.

Ezekiel 43.10-11  Thou son of man, show this house to the house of Israel that they may be ashamed of their iniquities; and let them understand the pattern. And if they are ashamed of all that they have done, show them the form of the house, and its pattern, and the goings out thereof, and the comings in thereof, and all its figures, and all its descriptions, and all its paintings, and all its laws; and write it in their sight that they may keep the whole form thereof and all the ordinances thereof and do them.

It’s interesting how we all tend to, at once, demand and reject patterns and forms.  I was thinking about this earlier when I was mulling over different forms and patterns I’ve used through the years for quiet time and Bible study.  Using forms, we might find ourselves feeling spiritually dry and quiet times might seem to become rote performances — then we might seek to be free from form and we may find ourselves floundering and then possibly ignoring the Word or prayer.  Seasons of these cycles repeat and we often find ourselves looking for the old ways… what was I doing, saying, thinking, reading, etc., etc., when I was daily walking with the Lord?  What gave me faith, understanding and trust?  What pattern had the Lord worked in my life?

The following is not meant to be a “form” per se, but as I read passages of Scripture and come to a portion that arrests my attention in some way or another, I have in mind any one, or many, of these questions.

These sorts of questions make the living Word the Word living in my life.  It is by faith in Jesus and through the Holy Spirit illuminating the Word of God I gain understanding.  As I wrote about yesterday: How is it that you do not understand? I must ask myself this question when my thoughts are not in line with the Word or when I question what the Lord is doing (or not doing) in my life.  I must realize that it’s not God who’s not working or present or speaking — it’s me not listening or trusting or following Him in faith — it’s me not continuing in the patter He’s given me.  And, above all that, I must remember that it’s not my faith that gives me understanding, it’s His faith working in me that gives me understanding… it’s His Word living in me that gives me understanding.Psalm 119.104  Through thy precepts I get understanding: therefore I hate every false way.

Proverbs 4.5  Get wisdom, get understanding: forget it not; neither decline from the words of my mouth.
Proverbs 4.7  Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wisdom: and with all thy getting get understanding.
Proverbs 16.16  How much better is it to get wisdom than gold! and to get understanding rather to be chosen than silver!

You can read my post, entitled, Unlock The Treasure Chest.  And you can read other great articles and encouraging ideas there on her site.  God [...]]]> I’m out and about today as I have a “guest-post” at friend, Jennifer’s, Renewing Housewives.
She’s hosting Titus 2′sDays on her site.

You can read my post, entitled, Unlock The Treasure Chest.  And you can read other great articles and encouraging ideas there on her site.  God bless you!

Time passes and memories fade — and then, [...]]]> Through the years we gather and carry with us so many experiences and acquaintances.  All of these are mingled among the successes and failures in the different testings and affirmations of faith.  I marvel: the handiwork of the Lord;  I marvel that He never misses a thread.  Things I think are wasted, things long forgotten, prayers and petitions, praises and disappointments… God’s still holding all the threads of these things.

Time passes and memories fade — and then, seemingly by chance, an old friendship is rekindled, a memory is brought to mind, a photograph sparks thoughts of an event rarely remembered.  But God remembers… His memory never dims and He’s not constrained by time or recollection.  The threads, unseen or unknown to us, continue to be woven by His gracious and skilled Hands.

I’m reminded to not think He’s forgotten or that life’s experiences have little meaning.  I’m reminded that all my yesterdays have tomorrows.  The seeds sown in years past may seem to by lying dead in fallow ground… but in time I will see what became of those seeds — some carelessly, some intentionally planted in different seasons of my life.

A long distance phone conversation with a friend last week seems to have opened a floodgate of memories that leave me longing for the early years, smiling at the thought of the babies — now men and women — with babies of their own.    And then, another surprise, a phone call and plans to spend some extended time together with dear old friends.  Surely we’ll be reminiscing and talking over days gone by when we meet — I can hardly contain my excitement!  Were that not enough, and surely not by chance, another old friend posted a couple of photos on Facebook… ah, the endearing faces,  photos of little boys — now men — our first two sons.  This led to my husband (who very rarely ever even logs on to Facebook) posting some photos of babies and little children… old photos!  Threads of connection… bringing life circles around again.

The threads of photos and conversations seem to connect us to our past like nothing else — these are the good threads — the sweet threads. How sweet to think the Lord is holding all these threads together, that not a time is wasted or lost — even though we don’t keep tract of or keep tying threads.