Parenting – The Welcome Home

homeschool conference withdrawal

[cp_dropcaps]E[/cp_dropcaps]ach April, for the last ten years, a highlight for us has been the annual Christian Heritage Family Discipleship & Homeschooling Conference—this year, particularly so—for so many reasons.

When I awoke this morning, I realized I’d been processing the conference in my dreams all night long. I wondered how many other’s night’s sleep were filled with screen images, books, papers, faces, admonitions and beautiful music. Through the day today, I’ve recounted conversations, in addition to important talks given by various teachers, I see and hear, in the theater of my mind, the beautiful performances and music that blessed us all — thousands of voices lifted in praise for what God has done.

But I also pondered, as I went about the dailies this morning, that there are probably countless others who’ve come away from the annual conference feeling overwhelmed and maybe even defeated — defeated in their home, homeschooling, family, marriage or homemaking — before they even put on Monday’s running shoes. They may have arrived at the conference feeling that way, too. But at the conference, they were uplifted, encouraged, cheered on! At the conference, they were inspired to tackle the responsibilities that lay before them, to seize the opportunities set before them, and with gusto and fervent desire, to grasp the gold ring, so to speak.

And today they’re experiencing conference withdrawal. Our kids talk about this sort of withdrawal when we drive away from an annual Bible conference weekend at the river in eastern Washington or from our annual family reunion gathering—mountaintop experiences that make normal, daily life seem ever so mundane. And flawed. I experience it, too. Even though I predetermine not to.

I didn’t buy a thing at the conference this year — not even the cute commemorative coffee mug. I didn’t order the whole conference on CD or mp3 (and not bcz it wouldn’t be totally worth buying!). I didn’t feel compelled for even a moment to look for the key to homeschooling or the latest and best math or writing curriculum. I didn’t even wonder what I was missing. For the first time ever at a homeschool conference or convention.

No, I haven’t arrived and no, I don’t feel like I’ve got it. Surely not! I just finally know that I know: there is no key out there. There is no magic homeschool: bling! you’re done! There is no one-size-fits-all, success-in-a-box, homeschool program. All that, and if I live to be one hundred, I could not fully utilize, read, implement all the stuff I already have. Seriously.

But there’s withdrawal… even still. One thing I believe is common to us all is that we’re all seeking to do well, to finish well.

I wish I could convey that to others who are feeling inadequate as they come down from the past weekend. Especially those who looked around all weekend and saw all the perfect mothers, perfect children, perfect curriculum packages, perfect books and perfect manuals… and are feeling like this mom:

homeschooler cartoon

And what I’d like to say to this mom: take it easy. Do the next right thing. Stop collecting stuff and start using what you’ve got. Study the Word to know the Lord. Read aloud. Hone in on the basics. Talk & listen. Listen and talk. And take it easy. Major on the majors and not on the minors. In the end, it’s really all about God: loving Him, knowing Him — what He has said, who He is, what He has done and what He will do — trusting Him, following Him, hearing Him, obeying His voice and doing His will. Stay in the race with your children.

The race is shorter than you think.

By The Grace of God

[cp_dropcaps]M[/cp_dropcaps]y mind floods with memories today — memories of days, years, decades gone by. So many days, so many memories — so much grace the Lord has lavished on me through the gift of our firstborn daughter.

Two precious sons were born to us before the Lord gifted us all with this great treasure — this inestimable gift. I’m ever mindful that without her, I’d never have made it through. I’m blessed by this–I’m humbled by this. So very humbled by the grace of God in my life and the gift of her life.

In the early days, I’d never have been able to consider or imagine that one day I’d sort of trade places with her—but that’s pretty much what’s happened. I’ve received more from her than I’ve ever given. I’d learned more from her more than I’ve ever taught her. I’ve seen more through her eyes than I’ve ever seen with my own. She’s given me intangible gifts and favours I could never repay.

[cp_dropcaps]T[/cp_dropcaps]he congregation rose to sing the hymn, Grace Greater Than Our Sin. The hymnal I was holding rested on the top of my very pregnant tummy and the piano began to play. As we sang the words of the chorus: “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,” I received a gift—a name, a great name for our baby.

Not knowing I was carrying a girl baby, I tucked that name away in my heart. [cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]All through my labour and delivery, I needed and looked for God’s grace. And He handed her to me… that sunny April afternoon.[/cp_quote] All through my labour and delivery, I needed and looked for God’s grace. And He handed her to me. Tears of great joy flooded my eyes and heart, that sunny April afternoon, as I looked into her dear face. She was so much more than I hoped for, more than I longed for—and through all these years I see she’s a gift for which I could never give enough thanks or praise to the Lord. Or to her.

I realize the great measure of responsibility I allowed her, gave her, called on her to carry. I’ve leaned on her strong shoulders as long as I can remember. In our family, after her were born eight more children and what originally began as cute help, sweet holding, playing with and doting over each next baby — being mama’s little helper over the years sort of grew into or transformed into being a right hand for me. I picture it this way, since I’m left handed, she literally became my right hand. I didn’t intend it, plan it or order it that way, it just happened. I’m sure there were many spectators who thought she did too much for me, had too many responsibilities or whatever, I don’t know—I just know she was ever at my side, ever asking what she could do or ever making up games, projects, crafts, and recipes for the littles. And I let her. It didn’t occur to me that things could’ve/should’ve been done differently—that she carried so much responsibility. I asked so much of her. Regarding all that, I don’t know if I’d do anything much differently if I could have a “do-over” today. Maybe I just can’t actually analyze and think of what should have been done differently in the early years.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a gazillion regrets. O man, do I ever. In these later years I regret my distractions, my internet addiction in the early days of webdesign, being overloaded with trying to be good enough/enough-enough. I regret that I didn’t transition well from being mother/guide/helper to mother/encourager/friend. I guess I was scared to let her grow up—to go—but I’ve sincerely had no reason to be. She never gave me cause to fear her growing up, it was all in my own head and a whole bunch of legalistic ideals that I could not/cannot live up to. I sometimes wish I could go back change a lot of that—and be more affirming, more encouraging — more available to her. I’ve learned so much from failings, regretting ever failing her. It’s humbling, really. Especially when I see all she is today — the faithful, trustworthy, capable, dependable, loyal, industrious, creative person she is — the blessing she is everywhere she goes. I pray for more opportunities to add to and carry out all I’ve learned. More opportunities to demonstrate or reciprocate all she’s done for me—by God’s grace, for God’s precious Kathryn Grace.

Fifty shades of moral depravity

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I haven’t read the book. I won’t watch the movie. I saw the trailer for the movie Fifty Shades of ~~Grey~~ Evil in the theater. Prior to another film I saw in the theater last fall, I heard the trailer as it played and teased the audience with despicable allure. One needn’t have grown up with a sex-addict psychopath to know when someone/something is evil. Nor, dare I say, does one need to be “spiritual” to recognize the evil of immorality — sexual abuse or abusive behaviour. The law of God is written in our hearts. We know from the Word that God has given us this gift for our good–for our protection. But when we deny Him, walk in our own ways, neglect the truth or buy into sin, we can be so easily lured into believing lies and become trapped by the devil’s clever snares.

So it is when a sensational movie comes along. And maybe the worst lure of all for someone who’s firmly decided to not see the film or read the book is fear of rejection or fear of not being cool. Ever been confronted with that: don’t-be-sucha-prude lure? Sure you have. I have, too. O, so you’re too good for that? O, so you’re afraid you’ll like it? O, so you’re happy with your same ol’ – same ol’ sex? Don’t you want to spice things up a bit? O, you can’t handle it? You know what I mean. And then, there’s the judgement bomb: How can you self-righteously judge a movie or a book you haven’t seen?

I can’t take seriously and/or don’t care about any of that vitriol. We don’t have to experience wickedness to know it’s wicked. We don’t have to view evil to know it’s evil. Again, God’s law written on our hearts—and if we know Him, His Spirit bears witness with our spirit. We can know — with assurance — things that are wrong – evil – immoral – vulgar – whatever, without seeing or experiencing them. It’s amazing how much controversy is being raised over this movie — shocking that it’s being defended. More than Harry what’s-his-name. Although, ironically, I see danger watching sorcery, et al.

Isn’t it interesting that society in general seems to have allowed so much room for women’s liberation; giant leaps in “equality” and yet — and yet — here comes along a movie filled with such abuse, degradation, humiliation, torture and control — the very things from which women are fighting to be freed. Homes and families are being shredded all over the world by such behaviours as are depicted in the film (and books, etc.). Women all over the world are being sexually used and abused, tortured and controlled by ruthless sexual psychopaths and staggeringly lucrative multi-billion dollar sex/porn industry with all its facets. Magazines, print ads, window displays are not far behind. And now… Fifty shades of what? Entertainment? For Valentines Day — Really!?!? Is it for audience shock and awe? Is this art? Why was this film made? And what’s next?

These questions and more flood my mind as I see the headlines in the news and on Facebook. I grieve the loss of innocence… I grieve what our daughters and granddaughters face… I grieve what our sons and grandsons face: society’s free-fall into the abyss of evil. I also grieve for the young minds that will be filled with unforgettable scenes… I grieve the messages that will be given to so many who are desperate for love, attention and acceptance — how I pray they don’t get lured into believing that true love is fifty shades of grey.

Lord help us all.

The First Seat on the Right Side of the Center Aisle

I wrote the following a few years after our firstborn son was married in 1998. Thinking back on that day, reflecting on all that’s transpired and all that’s happening currently, I decided to get this out and reread it. The same mama, similar feelings, better understanding… as plans are underway for another son who’ll marry next week. I’m so thankful I’ve had a little more time and a few more experiences so this time is not so overwhelming (and, I don’t have a 2+ week old newborn this time). But the emotions? They’re very much the same. And here you have another glimpse of my life — and maybe yours, too. Continue reading “The First Seat on the Right Side of the Center Aisle”

It’s in the valleys we find joy

You know that… you know it’s a new day and whether you’ve faced it with dread or with joy, the truth is that today’s a new day.
Dear sister, dear friend, dear mama… today’s a new day and if you’re in the valley today, it’s been my prayer as I’ve prepared to write this note, that *you* will rest in the Lord today.

No matter how the devil hounds us, especially in the valleys, we must determine today to quit looking for a way out of the valley or a way we could have, should have, would have done something different… we must determine to stop thinking we can change our yesterdays.

I sit by the window and see the beauty of the day and determine to seek only that which is good. Today.

You have today. That’s all you’ve got: today. Maybe it’s someone you love, someone you ache over that has you in a valley today. Maybe your life’s filled with regrets over what you couldda, shouldda, wouldda done. You can’t see it today, maybe, but you will have joy through this storm. If you’ve got a prodigal today, do something today… pray, call, pray, seek to communicate, pray, quit doing the stupid in your life and live the rest of your days — by the grace of God — according to all that He has commanded you.

If you’ve botched friendships, schedules, plans, relationships — whatever — you cannot do a thing about the yesterdays — in terms of thinking they could be or could have been different — but, by God’s grace and His work in and through you — there can be a change in you today. Sure, things could have been different, but they weren’t. So… today. You have today.

May the Lord bless it and give you peace.

Two years ago today our dear son Timothy woke from a coma… I could not have known that day how many “new days” I would experience, how many disappointments I would face, how many misunderstandings, regrets, stupid things, problems, joys and sorrows, delights and losses I would face. But, one thing I have held in my heart and in the forefront of my thoughts is that God is only good all the time and whatever happens, it’s not in the troublefree, carefree, effortless times we grow… it’s in the valleys we grow. It’s in the valleys we learn to walk hand in Hand with the Saviour. It’s in the valleys we cement our faith in Him. It’s in the valleys that trust is imprinted on our hearts. It’s in the valleys we grow in grace.

It’s in the valleys we find joy.

Untangling the wwWeb – part two

This is “part two” of the previous post by the same name — you can read it here. The reason I’ve entitled this and the previous post: Untangling the wwWeb is bcz it truly is a tangling or entangling web. Now, what I hope is understood here is that the web or internet or electronic communication is not the enemy — it’s not all bad. In fact, I readily admit that it’s a profoundly invaluable tool. But tools are just that: tools. We utilize tools — and the right tools help us accomplish tasks much more efficiently than were we to not have them. Tools misused or used in the wrong hands are actually dangerous. We can think of the internet (or iPhones, smart phones or any other communication device) as a tool — a very useful tool if used properly. Unplanned or unbridled internet use is dangerous and should, from here on, be evaluated as a properly or improperly used tool.

Here’s an idea for you. Set the timer for 20 minutes right now or next time you use your computer (or iPhone or whatever). Bing! the timer will ring and you’ll be shocked just how fast twenty minutes passes! Now, for amplification, set the timer for that same amount of time before embarking on some task you don’t like doing. You’ll be shocked how slowly twenty minutes passes! That little exercise is to give you an idea just how much time you’ve ~~wasted spent~~ invested online. You can never get that time back. Ever again.

In order to untangle from the web — and it is, in intensity and enormity, a world. wide. web. — I believe you must (in addition to answering those questions in “part one” of this post) admit you’re tangled in it (if you are) and then do some fessing up to yourself, to your husband, to your children. Your fessing up may extend beyond your home. Think back on days gone by… how were they really spent? How much time did/do you really spend online? And, as with all addiction recovery, a course or a plan of action and accountability should be — read: must be — established. A lack of a plan is a plan to fail and disregarding accountability is a sure plan to cheat yourself.

You may clean the room, clean the space in your life that the net once fully occupied, but unless you fill that space with plans, purposes, activities and measurable accomplishments, that space will be filled with demons of a worse kind. Those demons might be resentment, regret, shame, anger, self-pity, bitterness, pride, anxiety, frustration, woeful longing and on and on. Those demons travel in a pack.

Get busy and stay busy. Look well to the ways of your household and do not eat the bread of idleness.

Wherever you are, be fully there. Whatever you’re doing, be fully doing it. Whoever you’re talking with, be fully engaged in conversation. It may shock you how disconnected you’ve been. It may shock them how distracted you were and now aren’t! It may be weird for them– and you — to be doing all the stuff you delegated (so you could be freed up to do all that important good stuff on the internet). Watch out for personal resentment if you’re not appreciated for all your hard work. Determine to live joyfully in your home. Purpose to change your tomorrows since you cannot do a single thing to change the yesterdays. You can change — your days can change and in doing so, you’ll be investing in your tomorrows.

Set about accomplishing the things you’ve set aside… maybe neglected. You know, the stuff you used to do before the the tangled wwWeb got you and your time all wrapped up. As you do things, you’ll experience delightful appreciation for personal growth and accomplishment — interest and investment in your home and family once again. You’ll be living all those pictures you’ve been dreaming about. Try new things. You sleep better knowing that the greater satisfaction comes in actually doing and accomplishing instead of just observing; reading about things other women seem to be doing or seeing pictures of all that all those other mothers seem to be accomplishing. Keep in mind each day that the wise woman builds her house but the foolish plucks it down with her own hands.

In time you’ll establish a balance of best vs. good… literal vs. virtual… wise vs. foolish or not-so-wise time investment. You’ll begin seeing or will begin doing all the things you knew deep down you wanted to do/you should be doing… but couldn’t do bcz you were all tangled up viewing a screen. Drinking another cup of coffee.

♥ may you always be blessed.

Savouring the Moments

The symphony of birds, buds and blossoms along with the soft greens seem to sing, Springtime’s here; another season’s underway! With the passing of time, the Lord is teaching me to savour the moments, to watch for the signs of the seasons. I can’t really recall if , or what, I’ve written much about the passage of a season that taught me this, but it was the slow dawning of the reality that the childbearing season was slipping away that first began to teach me to savour the moments.

I think I’ve told you how (early on) women–mothers–would tell me, “…it goes so fast: before you know it, they’ll be all grown up…” and to those comments I would nod in agreement… as if I understood. And, I suppose, to a small degree, I did. Actually, truth be told, I didn’t. Not really. And, further, I recognize that I still don’t really know the whole of it. But what I am realizing this: time really does seem to pass exponentially faster with each passing year.

On Saturday morning I received a text message on my cellphone. Three simple words. Tears filled my eyes as I read and reread those three little words. Those three little words were packed with such hope and elated joy. I pictured the smiling face of the one who sent me the text. I pictured the thrill that must’ve gone into the typing of the three little words. I closed my phone — savouring the moment and what the three little words would become. The text read: She said yes.

Several of us received the same text. We knew this by the flood of texts that followed. It’s just what happens in a big family, I guess.

As I savoured the moment, I was grinning with tear-filled eyes. Standing there, looking out the window above the kitchen sink, I was thinking about that son’s little boy self and how he ran and played out in the yard, roller skated down the lane, did ‘canon-balls’ in the pool, shot things with his airsoft gun and found things to light on fire in the back yard. As I lingered, I thought of the several years he’s loved this girl… I thought of the many times she’s stood right in the same place, washing dishes or having a cup of coffee or tea in the kitchen. I thought of her little girl self… her adorable little girl self. And then, her parents came to mind and suddenly it wasn’t just our boy and bright hopes for tomorrow — it was their daughter and all the memories of her little girl self and times gone by in her life and theirs… many savoured moments, I’m very sure.

Later, walking around our yard and then standing under the lacy green leaves hanging from the giant weeping willow tree, I looked up to see where the branch had broken off — the branch that had, until just recently, held the old tire-swing. I knew one day that that branch would break and the tire-swing would inevitably have to be put away or maybe even possibly would be hung on from different branch… I just never thought it would be this soon. I looked at the branch on the ground and the place where the rope had been nearly completely encircled by the bark of the branch where it had hung for so many decades — the process unnoticed, but further embedded with each passing season. In the theater of my mind, I saw some of the childhood faces of the many, many seasons of the tire swinging from that tree. Savoured moments. More so, now.

The interesting thing about savoured moments is that at the time the moments don’t seem all the glorious. I sometimes think that savoured moments become so — not because of their impact or influence at the time, but later. Silly things, embarrassing things, surprising things, simple things, everyday things. Later on… down the road a bit… that’s when moments become meaningful and it’s those meaningful moments we savour. Those simple, everyday, unremarkable (at the time) moments that somehow capture our hearts and become the stuff memories are made of — the moments we treasure — the moments we savour.

In the last couple of days I’ve had more time to reflect on those three little words… I’ve thought of the inevitable hardships, trials, heartaches ans sorrows they’ll necessarily face. I’ve thought of the memories they’ll make, the home they’ll make together — the joys and laughter they’ll experience and the hopes and dreams they’ll share; and I marveled at the thought of the surprising ways of God they’ll surely encounter as He writes their story. And so for all these things, I can only say, Praise the LORD and pray they’ll savour the moments that come with the passing seasons along the way.

Captivated

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.

What’s Pulling on Your Apron Strings

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

Abandoning Convictions

Time was when people could hold to some basic principles or live by personal convictions — decisions that may or may not be or may not’ve been popular — and yet they could sort of remain unspoken or undeclared. Publicly, anyway. Time was when people could hold to convictions and only a small circle of community would’ve been aware of the person’s or couple’s personal convictions. Now… not so.

With the advent of email, internet chat-rooms and bulletin boards in the 90’s… e-groups list mail and then the explosion of “social media” such “personal convictions” become public declarations. Write an article about it or write a book about it and, well, there’s the personal conviction in black and white for the whole world to read. And comment on.

Not lost on me is the fact that our personal convictions can, in many ways, be seen and read of all men. So, whether we say it or write it, whether social media publicizes it or not, others can view what we believe or see what our personal convictions are by the decisions we make or the lives we live (this is especially true when our walk doesn’t match our talk).

The influence of our decisions or personal convictions isn’t limited to our circle of “friends” bcz our sphere of influence is much greater than our sphere of acquaintance. It’s amazing how reputation (good! or bad!) spreads.

Awareness or visibility of a personal conviction doesn’t assure accuracy though… other people’s opinions of us or their evaluation of what they think we think or what they think we believe is usually skewed by their personal experience or their convictions.

Their assessment may be further skewed because sometimes our children don’t hold to the same convictions as they mature — thus, our convictions or beliefs are more critically scrutinized.

I read an article yesterday — didn’t have time to tweet about it, link it on FB or write something here — actually, it’s probably a good thing, too.

The article is a NYT article written about a couple who once held to (and wrote a book about) a particular belief they’ve since abandoned — conviction(s) they once embraced — they now denounce.

My mind immediately jumped to several conclusions: maybe they never really believed what they said they believed. Maybe they got all caught up in the literary experience — I mean, we’re all so eloquent, so much cooler online. Maybe they were following “a man” and not the Spirit of the Lord. Maybe they were deceived on purpose (a few will catch that one). Maybe they gave up too soon. Maybe they allowed little foxes to spoil the vine. Maybe they…

I could easily get caught up in all that… maybe it was this, maybe it was that…

And then I stop and think that my concern for this couple is more for another decision they abandoned: the decision to abandon their vows.

Their children will pay a steep price for it.

Edit 4.21.2018
An article at Women of Grace [now formerly] Bethany & Sam Torode