God Makes Everything Beautiful

Although a terribly neglected blog, I remain thankful that it preserves many precious thoughts and lessons.  My last post, now over a year old, was so rich to reread today.  God had really been teaching me and months of lessons culminated in our vacation and that entry.

Now, thirteen months later I can say that I have remained in God's "School for Saints."  I hope to never stop learning.  But I would not have ever asked for my lessons to come in such sad presentations.

(Apparently I had already started to write about this event last year and just posted it today upon it's discovery...but I've decided to post this version too and hope to ultimately add to it, bringing this blog up to date.)

When we travelled to the Gulf last May I was pregnant with one who we hoped was to be our tenth child.  Up to that time we had experienced three very early miscarriages and being forty-one I suspected that we shouldn't feel certainty about meeting any more of our children until we arrive in Heaven.  The first three miscarriages preceded each of our last three born children.  So we were developing a certain pattern: an early miscarriage followed shortly by a healthy pregnancy and baby and it all happened within two years of the birth of the last child.  Yep, it was definitely a great place for God to redirect ny hope from being placed upon a certain pattern in life to truly placing my faith in God's sufficiency everyday, come what may.

In May 2012, the bleeding started, but since many recent pregancies had included some bleeding but the babies remained safe, I didn't react with much concern.  I was 10 1/2 weeks along and had not seen my doctor yet so I went for my first appointment.  No heartbeat was heard with the office doppler (and this was not alarming to me either due to the age of the baby) so I was sent to the hospital for an ultrasound. 

On the morning of my appointment I had began to cry out to God about the situation as I noticed the bleeding had increased.  While driving to the office I praised him (along with Chris Tomlin) at the top of my voice proclaiming that nothing can stand against me because God is for me.  I committed the baby and my day to God, and promised to praise Him no matter.

At the hospital I was tempted to feel sorry for myself and even respond emotionally or rudely to the folks who were just doing their jobs by treating me like a cow on a cattle drive.  But as I studied the faces of the others who came in and out of the hospital and those waiting with me I felt compassion for them.  I was seemingly the healthiest person in the building, even if a child had died inside of me.  And with nine healthy children safely at home, to whom I would return, I felt like the most blessed of anyone I saw that morning.  So I prayed for the others.  I prayed until I recognized a neighbor and moved near him to inquire about his visit.  He explained that his wife was having some testing and I told him that I would be praying for her.  He is the sort of neighbor that I waved at as I walk by.  We don't even know each other's names.  They don't go to church and he didn't speak of faith or God.  I accepted it as a sign that God wanted to intersect His day. 

In the ultrasound room I learned that I had a ten week placenta and sac but no baby!  At that point I didn't care what their latest term was for this sadness.  I was shocked.  Disappointed.  Ultimately angry.  But God never left me there to wallow for even a second.  My eyes drifted over to a drawer in the room labeled "biopsy supplies" and again I was reminded of how blessed I was that I had come to inquire about a baby and not a disease.

After having a miscarriage at home at only 7 weeks that bordered dangerous in terms of bleeding, I agreed quickly with my doctor who suggested a D and C under anesthesia in the OR that evening.  I confirmed that I had not eaten in a few hours and would not eat or drink again until after the surgery.  Then I worked to retrieve my husband from work in time to be at my appointment in the surgical unit.

Having been pro-life all my life I was aware that the procedure I was going to undergo was essentially the same as an abortion except that I was agreeing to help my body rid itself of something that wasn't likely to come naturally without great risk.  I still didn't care for the idea but since there was a baby's body to contend over, intellectually I was able to move forward.  God's peace was lavished upon me as I counted the potential cost of not surviving the surgery.

In the surgical unit I was treated like a queen and Bob and I were able to testify of our faith and passion about raising and educating our children for the Lord's purposes.  One of my nurses was a dear friend's next-door neighbor and therefore she was familiar with large family living and spoke highly of our friend's family and of us to the other medical staff.

The twenty-five minutes that I spent "under" were indescribable.  Although I had go into surgery with a great desire to survive, I remember not wanting to come out of the incredible dream or vision I was having while asleep.  It was truly the deepest most restful sleep I've ever had.  The nurse said that when I became conscious I had a huge smile on my face.  The memory is not so vivid now, but I recall that I was convinced that God had met me during my surgery.  The only things I recalled were very bright "lighting" and a penetrating presence of perfect love and joy.  We returned home shortly with no worries and not a single ill effect of the day's experiences.







 

Thankful, No Matter What

  In a recent post I talked about overcoming fear to walk in the destiny that God has for us.  I also mentioned thoughts about having babies during times of uncertainty.  The completion of that God-given course about fear lead directly into a course on gratitude.  A dear friend gave me the book "One Thousand Gifts".  As I read it through I had a strong sense that God was going to provide some tests for me in the area of thanksgiving.

  I was feeling pretty good as I evaluated myself by the author's increasing standards on living in a state of thanksgiving.  It seemed perfectly natural to start my own list of 1000 things for which I am grateful.  I've been practicing thanking God for the little things for years.  That realization alone points to another God miracle since I was an ungrateful creature in my early life.  But as an adult, and definitely as a mother, I have taken into account the beauty of God's creation in every day.  Rainbows seen in dishsoap bubbles are just the sorts of things that I regularly stop and appreciate.  So, up to that place in my book I was doing well.  But I was sure there would be more required in order for me to grow more like Christ.

  The author wondered whether she could survive the loss of a child as some of her relatives had, twice.  Her quest for true gratitude and the joy that follows it, was continually splattered with doubt.  I, too, wondered what sort of situation could render me unable to give thanks to God.  And I questioned whether I was destined for a great loss in the near future.

  After our wonderful, short, getaway to the Gulf, we learned I was pregnant.  Because of the aforementioned lesson, from the start I was sober-minded.  I was also extremely grateful to learn that we were due in early December and by my doctor's typical recommendations I would be induced the week of Thanksgiving.  How appropriate.  My heart welled with gratitude.  The future looked so wonderful. 

  I've had a trend of weaning our toddlers around eighteen months, becoming fertile, quickly getting pregnant, miscarrying, and then becoming pregnant the next month and carrying the baby to term.  I believe it had happened before each of my last three babies.  Thankfully, the pregnancies were very short, and medical intervention had not been necessary.  The last loss was at nearly 7 weeks and definitely more intense, but still not an event of serious grief since it was a short pregnancy and our baby Joshua was conceived so quickly afterward. 

  I began to think of myself as a woman who would gladly carry more babies for the glory of God, or carry them until the Lord took them home and added them instantly to His Kingdom through miscarriage.  Now that I'm in my forties, I am aware that it will not be possible to have many more babies.  So with each pregnancy I've been grateful, yet fully aware of potential loss.

  This recent pregnancy seemed fairly normal.  I had to remind myself that I have not felt terribly nauseated in recent pregnancies therefore the lack of ill symptoms did not necessarily mean that the baby wasn't growing.  I even consulted my journal to be certain that feeling good was my new normal for the first trimester. 

  I thought of the baby everyday, practically every minute.  I bought a couple of maternity dresses on clearance and stopped buying the small sizes of clothes that I had recently been able to fit into.  It still amazes me how everything I eat, breathe, wear, read, and so on puts my baby and ever-changing body in mind.  We received wedding invitations for July.  I envisioned wearing lose-fitting dresses and comfy shoes.  I continued to exercise everyday paying close attention to my blood sugar swings and protein consumption.  The list of changes that are made in my daily life to accomodate a new baby is very long. 

  Around nine weeks I had some disturbing symptoms, yet they weren't any different than symptoms I've had in my last three pregnancies.  Again, I had to remind myself of those facts.  But by ten weeks I had called the doctor to make my first appointment and mild bleeding had increased to an unusual level.  In his office at ten and a half weeks he found a normal sized uterus and no heartbeat.  Later that day at the hospital an ultrasound revealed a placenta and sac with no baby inside.  I was ready for the news of a miscarriage but not for the part about my body being tricked into thinking it was pregnanct for the last two months. 

  This is a good place to share about gratitude and God's closeness during trial.  As I drove to my OB's office I sang my favorite worship songs, cried out to the Lord, prayed for our baby's life, against satan's plans to steal, kill and destroy, and pledged to thank Him no matter what came that day.  All the words of the songs reiterated that God is for me and God is with me.  Nothing can separate me from God.  I could lose everything that matters to me, but God would not be any less loving, gracious or wonderful. It was such a close time of fellowship and praise. As the doctor and I walked together into the exam room I told him, "God is adding to His Kingdom, whether my baby has lived or died."

  Again from the office to home and then to the hospital, I cried out to God.  I hoped the ultrasound would reveal a perfect baby but my symptoms made it seem unlikely.  So I shouted praises to Him.  Determined to maintain thankfullness.  Initially I went to the wrong building.  I was thankful for that mishap because the man that was serving at the front desk had the Holy Spirit all over him.  He was the most kind person I can remember ever meeting in a customer service position.  I decided after I finished my appointment I would write him a thank you note or go back and tell him in person.  God made sure that I didn't forget.  The traffic during my exit of the hospital complex encouraged me to head back the wrong direction towards the nice man's post.  I had to wait in line to speak to him, and when I explained why I came back, his response was one of surprise and blessing.

  As I sat in the large hospital foyer/pre-registration area, I started to pray for others around me.  Finally, I concluded that feeling sorry for myself was crazy.  I felt and looked healthier than anyone around, so it seemed.  I also felt that I was full of hope whereas their physical ailments seemed to have bound them.  I don't know how God sees people in a hospital, but I think He gave me a glimpse.  Compassion oozed from within.  I imagined how I could feel sorry that I had no one with me to help me handle the bad news.  I even complained for a few seconds that my husband is rarely with me or even available by phone to even know that something is wrong in my world.  But every vain thought, was immediately replaced by a "God thought".  He was delivering me from every temptation of evil imaginations.  He gave me kindness and compassion for dozens of people in the hospital. 

  Medically speaking, an anembryonic pregnancy, or blighted ovuum, is a real pregnancy where the fetus stops growing very early and is absorbed into the placenta.  Usually the placenta can keep up the charade for only ten weeks.  In the absence of bleeding, no mother should ever believe that she has an anembryonic pregnancy just because her baby has not been visualized/heard unless she is atleast ten weeks.  According to internet research there are many women who were told to have a D and C in earlier weeks and they refused and ultimately carryied a baby to term who was not visible until ten weeks!

 
(one year later)

God opened many doors through this loss and this new growth in being thankful for God's closeness.  to be continued in another post...

God Gives Us Desires and Dolphin

I wonder why we put our walk with Christ into certain disciplined and unhappy boxes.  Why do we think it is more noble to be a martyr than to live fully and joyfully?  We read a story about a man who wanted to be so separate from the filth of the world that he built himself a pole and perched upon it until his death.  People came from miles to stare at the disgusting, flesh-rotting, sun-crusty old saint.  What glory did God receive from this sacrificial life?  My children were stunned when we finished his story.  We all wondered if we were supposed to be impressed or sad.

Recently, our pastor taught a sermon about "Disciplined Desire".  In short, God wants us to walk in His will and we discover His will by seeking Him in prayer and then walking in His answers/ways. 

In the Garden, He gave them a "tree to be desired" and told them not to touch it (Gen 3:6).  He knew it was desirable and made them to desire it.  The Fall was never about desire, but rather about discontentment, lack of gratitude. 

In Psalm 37, He reminds us not to fret, three times, while He says to commit our ways to Him and He will give us our desires.  Desires are passion and enthusiasm directed.  God wants us to be passionate and enthusiastic.  God hates that which is lukewarm.  Directed drive is useful.  Satan wants our desires to be misdirected.  God wants our desires (those that align with His will) to be fulfilled.  Isn't Hell a place of eternally unquenched desire?  The rich man in Hell was thirsty and begging for just a drop of water in Luke 16:19-24.  In Psalm 81:8-12 and Romans 1:20,24 God gave the wicked over to their own lusts/desires.  It destroyed them.

God wants to grant our requests:  Psalm 20:4,5 and I John 5:15.  Even the Hebrew root of the word "desire" is to ask.  God directs our desires as we invite Him to do so.  The wise understand God's will, pray for God's will, and walk in God's will.  In doing this, we have our desires fulfilled.

We went on vacation last week.  That is an amazing statement.  As husband and wife we have not been on vacation for fifteen years.  And before that, not since our first child was born.  I'd had not desired to leave our children and between nursing, pregnancy, childcare and finances it had not been a reality.  We haven't missed it.  But, we are in a new season and therefore, we took a three day vacation to a Florida beach on the Gulf.

We flew down early one morning, rented a car, drove to our oceanfront hotel and two days later we did it all in reverse.  Two days of warm, sunny beaches, palm trees, delicious food and touring the bay and Gulf was plenty.  Every desire we had was filled! 

We had previewed a large speedboat tour online and were excited to go on it.  It boasted dophin jumping in its wake.  The tour was one hour long, and after we'd been out for an hour and no dophin had been spotted, we were beginning to feel disappoinment.  When I consulted with Bob about it, he had been thinking the same as me:  if we wanted to see the dolphin we should pray for them.  We both had already started praying but agreeing to pray together and saying it outloud just gave more opportunity for God to show off.  And He did...so beautifully that I could barely endure the excitement.  The three dophin that showed up (within minutes) performed at the rear of our boat as if they were trained at SeaWorld.  There was no bait or any reward for them whatsoever.  They just enjoyed playing in the boat's wake at this particular speed of which the captain was fully aware.  At the end of the ride, when we asked the First Mate how our dolphin show rated among the others (the boat goest out three times a day) he said that ours had been a nine out of ten! 

There were many more answers to prayers on our vacation.  They all confirmed that God does care about our desires.  He extends His love to us through the relationship-building practice of our asking and His answering.  It is not religious.  It is faith-building.

 There was a mama, baby and a medium-sized dolphin (daddy?)  Below is the baby.

 The First Mate thought we were honeymooners!  We jumped at the chance to tell him we've been married for over 2 decades and have nine children and that we were truly enjoying our vacation!

From Worry to Peace

God is always at work.  I learned that in "Experiencing God".  I can testify to it's truth.  He is surely always working on me.

Most recently I have been consumed with thoughts about witnessing to the lost and planning for our future.  The evidence of the season in which we live is clear:  we are in the End Times.  There is less time than ever before for sinners to repent and be saved.  We cannot expect our government to become more friendly to biblical values or the culture at large to more closely resemble God's will.  We are to be the light in the darkness.

Some of the talk about the power grid failing or the connection between the suppliers and consumers for our basic needs being severed is concerning.  I do not know how to wisely prepare for either.  At the end of this year will all the coastlines fall into the oceans while the North and South Poles switch places?  It doesn't matter how many questions are posed, the only comforting answer is that God knows and He communicates with His people.  I do not know the future.  But I am responsible for atleast nine people other than myself whom I love deeply.  My greatest fear is that I will miss instructions on how to care for my family in difficult times.

Recently those fears have crept into the arena of planning parenthood.  Are we willing to bring another child into this uncertain world?  Should it be now and not then?  Here rather than there?  My thoughts and feelings run through the entire range of options. 

Enter:  Esther.  I was given Beth Moore's teaching on this book of the Bible recently.  It's subtitled:  It's Tough being a Woman.  I suppose few of us know this as well as Esther.  The story about the person gave me the set of CDs is quite a God thing in itself.  God is always at work.

This morning's lesson was about fear.  I have walked through many fears in my adult life.  Most of them pertain to health in baby making process.  God has been so faithfiul to bless us over and over.  He has been so very close during some extremely scary seasons of our children's lives.  I know He is ever present.  But this recent fear over the coming end of the world really has been creeping into many areas that once were so easily placed in God's hands. 

Beth reminded me that we cannot walk in the destiny that God has for us "for such a time as this" if we are consumed with fear.  I didn't faithfully finish this post, but as I try to wrap it up now for publishing, I realize that I have been living in God's peace for the last several weeks.  I suppose it was Beth Moore's encouragment that shoved my heart in the proper direction.  We've finished the CD set and the Book of Esther and I am a better woman for it.  Praise God for His effective words!

Legacy

One week day, the nine children and I took our two rubber boats out to the southern branch of the Elizabeth River.

Kelsey, Isaac and I took turns rowing and holding Joshua.

This was the second boat.  Daniel and Kendal took turns rowing.

It was a strong start from the boat ramp.  If it weren't for jelly fish we could've happily all taken cool swim.  We were missing the nice fresh water of the mountain lakes during our vacation.

This is my absolute favorite.  We are crossing the Lafayette River at The Falls.  Kelsey is taking the photo before she crosses.  It's such a great picture of the children walking in my "footsteps" to explore the beautiful river.  Bob and Isaac were there too, they were hiking for a better spot at the time.

Daniel, Anna and Joy were walking the creek in Floyd.  It was an adventure as the rhodedendrons were so thick across most of the path.  Creek walking was a favorite pastime of my sister's and mine. 

Anna caught the largest fish during our trip.  She, Joy and Daniel were very diligent and persistent.  They all handle themselves well around the water and rods.

What do all these photos have in common?  They remind me that the saying is true:  "More is caught than taught."  Also, I think I've been told before that children tend to follow the passions of their parents (good and bad).  

It seems to me that our children loving the outdoors, boating, fishing, creek walking, and generally exploring and adoring God's creation, has come from the thousands of times they've heard me rave about the beauty and joy I find in it.  To a degree all children seem to love animals and outdoors.  But not all children learn to navigate a small boat, bait and release their own fish, and save wild animals.  My mother and father taught me those things, and so much more.  

My mom is a skilled seamstress.   Once her friends realized her talent they called upon her often for such help.  That is now my story and the same goes for my eldest daughters.  My father would rather be on the river in a canoe with a fishing rod than anywhere in the world.  I couldn't agree more.  And I have many children who would volunteer to be right beside us.  Mom and Dad gave us the gifts of sharing what they love.  Mom adores birds.  So do we.  Dad intentionally threw us in the water so that we had to swim.  He even dragged us behind a motorboat so that we had to try water skiing.  He taught us to cast and reel a rod.  But he also made us cut worms, jab them with hooks, and then pull hooks out of the fishes' mouths once they were caught.  He didn't get to do much fishing when he took us since there were many tangled lines and many deeply embedded hooks.  He harrassed us when we rowed the canoes incorrectly but taught us exactly how to do it well.  He wanted us to know how to do "stuff."  It worked.  He was intentional. : )

Last month when he observed eleven year old Daniel back paddling to ease himself up to my dad's pontoon boat, he commented on Daniel's skill.  He said that he noticed how handy another child was with a fishing rod.  Maybe that was Daniel too.  I can't remember.  But my heart did well with a mother's pride when I realized that our children were finally old enough to earn their Granddad's respect for knowing how to do something that he thinks is important.  What a sweet moment.  

As I mulled over this idea of legacy I realized that my house is generally uncluttered and mostly neat but not obsessively clean.  So was and is my mother's home.  My wardrobe is not large, or fancy and and like my mother, I do not have lust for impractical or excessive amounts of clothing.  We have what we need, and often make what we like, in order to honor our Lord and our family.  My Mom didn't talk about these things, but she passed the habit down to me through her chaste actions.  I am very practically minded.  My mother is the ultimate of that. 

It is interesting food for thought.  What will this look like as it is fleshed out in our nine children?  Thus far, it is mostly lovely.  When it is sinful behavior and we recognize it...ouch!  Repentance soon follows.  Children are good mirrors.  

I am thankful for the legacy that my parents have given to me and now to our children.  I'm going to make a list of all the things that have been passed down thus far and send a note to each of my parents to thank them.  Then I'm going to try to remember to reserve my passions those things that honor Jesus so that my legacy will be a godly one.       

God in the little things

A high school friend lost her son to postoperative complications of orthopedic surgery last week.  He was nearly fourteen.  He'd been diagnosed soon after birth with a rare syndrome known as angelman or happy puppet.  He had been unable to speak or care for himself.  His parents had given him every advantage in this life.  He was always surrounded by friends, support groups, therapists, family, and often strangers as they travelled as a family. 

We were able to attend the "celebration" of his life.  Although we had not met the young man or even been close to my friend during the last fourteen years, we felt part of a bigger mission as we listened to their testimonies.  The young man had taught his family many lessons about warming others with a perpetual smile, loving unconditionally, hugging passionately, keeping account of those who were "missing" from his presence, and making friends everywhere he went- including Europe! 

I had wondered over the years if my friend would learn to draw close to Jesus while taking care of her son.  I never did talk to her about it.  Our family's Christmas letter and her family's Christmas letter were all the communication we had.  They were very different.  They seemed to be having great fun.  God blessed them again with two more children, a lovely new home, and three outstanding years in Italy.  No mention of the Lord's faithfulness.  I was left to wonder or even suppose that my friend was able to fulfill her role as the mother of a special needs child without God.  After hearing the testimonies of the parents, uncle and Grandfather, I knew it was God's strength.  They have been stellar parents.  Their love is amazing.  The dignity they demonstrated towards their child puts most parents to shame.  Whether they have acknowledged God is irrelevant.  God was there!  His fingerprints are all over their life. : )  My friends words were, "[Our son] taught us how to love unconditionally.  He loved everyone.  We can all learn from him."  That's Jesus.

Before I go further I have to confess.  Self-righteousness reared its ugly head:  I was called with the news of the tragic death by the mother of another classmate at his request.  He is the grieving mother's dearest lifelong friend.  He didn't have my number but his mom did.  I kept wondering why I was called.  Did my classmate think that I have something to offer that would bless the grieving family.  I wondered if it was Jesus...I was thankful to be included.  The entire episode would have passed me by unnoticed since I do not frequent the obituaries.  I assummed I would be able to somehow bless this family.  Hopefully I will.  But it wasn't during the funeral.

In short, the loving family, humble testimonies, and dignified treatment of the disabled, blessed me immensely.  When we headed for home, I was the one who'd been touched by Jesus' testimony through the son and their loving parental example.  There were so many things about them that did not indicate that they were likeminded with our family in daily practice however their love was clearly of a supernatural grade.  My words to the grieving family seemed unimportant and lost in a sea of much more helpful supporters.  My attendance seemed insignificant with so many gathered who are much closer to the deceased.

I still believed that God has a mission for me.  Of course I've been praying since I received the initial news.  I have barely thought of anything else.  I pray before bed, everytime I wake up at night, and so forth.  I don't want to underestimate prayer but I do want to do more.  I found a great book about surviving the loss of a child in the Christian bookstore. I'm praying about the timing of sending or personally delivering the book.  I promised my friend at the service that I would be around when everyone else had gone back to their normal lives.  I've never even been to her house.  So I am really praying about the timing of those "visits."  I've purchased two cards of encouragment/sympathy and I mailed one today.

A couple of nights ago I remembered that someone had given my mother in law a prayer shawl when her middle son died suddenly five years ago.  Apparently prayer shawl ministries are very popular in many churches.  I wasn't familiar with the idea and I hadn't even seen one.

I found myself at the fabric store with one of our daughters last Monday, so I started looking at yarn.  I noticed all the yarn was on sale but I didn't have any idea about how much to buy.  I called my mother in law on my cell phone and she told me as much as she remembered...I was praying the whole time wondering if a prayer shawl would bless my friend.  I walked back to a skein of yarn that had caught my attention initially.  The mixture of colors reminded me of a sweater she wore in highschool.  I bent over to take a closer look at it.  There was a photo of a lady wearing something knit around her shoulders.  Underneath her photo it said, free prayer shawl pattern inside label!!!  You could've knocked me over with a feather!  I have shopped for yarn probably four times a year for the last ten years or so.  I have never seen a prayer shawl pattern, booklet, example or anything.  There it was!  Does God answer prayer?  YES!  Was He communicating with me?  I think so.  I read the directions.  They were intended for beginners-ever better!  I bought the four skeins for a great price and started immediately. 

Over lunch I told all the children what had happened.  I told everyone I talked to on Monday.  Strangely by the evening it didn't seem so amazing.  It always happens like that:  God does something great and time causes me to forget how real it was or time provides plenty of time for rationalizing how it could've happened in a manner that has nothing to do with God. 

I choose to praise Him.

I don't know if my friend will think the shawl is corny.  I know I've been praying for her during most of the time I've been knitting for her.  God is honored.  I have sent her a note on facebook everyday either private or public and received no response.  Not necessary.  I am trying to minister to her.  Whenever my ego gets involved I will not be able to bless her and glorify God.  I know He is trying to mold me.  But I can feel those old insecurities that were so common in highschool.  "I'm stupid.  Others think my ideas are stupid.  They thing I'm a freak  We have nothing in common.  She doesn't want my brand of Christianity...." and so forth.  I have to keep focused on God.  I really want to be used by Him and maybe He's not going to make it easy for me.  In His strength I'm going to continue to try to bless this friend. 

Her situation makes me cry.  I cannot imagine her pain and feelings of loss.  I want to help.  I know only God can minister to that depth of pain.  I hope I am part of His plan.  I think He's listening.

To God be the glory.  Great things He has done!

Wanted: Steadfast, Immoveable, Always working female

The Lord works in mysterious ways.  This morning I had to laugh at His persistence in reaching me.

It has been a typical day for the most part.  Early this morning I was peacefully nursing our youngest, praying, and inviting God to show me what He wanted us to do in a certain situation.  It seemed that He had answered.  I had a new idea, that I thought was from the Lord, and I was excited to share it with my husband.  Then Disappointment arrived. We had a silly and frustrating conversation and for no apparent reason.  I never did discover whether he liked the "idea".  He left for work.  I felt deflated since we struggle so often to communicate well. Because of the pathetic course of irritations during our disagreement, I failed to regain that sweet ground that I'd been enjoying before our conversation.  

With my husband off to work, I tried to regain a sweet composure. Then the fights among the children started.  I tried to intervene in some.  Others I let go.  Little ones were refusing to allow their buddies to help them get ready for the day.  I was called to get involved, over and over and over again.

After all the howling ceased, we ate breakfast.  Then I read from our current "devotion" book.   Ironically it's a book about relationships between siblings called Making Brothers and Sisters Best Friends by Sarah Mally.  After removing the fussy baby from the kitchen where we read together, we tried to discuss our book.  Today the subject was compassion.  I am thankful for this book.  We need it so badly.

Then, the toddler who was allowed to leave the table early announced that the baby's diaper was stinky.  The seemed like a good time to stop reading and pray quickly.  After giving directions for breakfast cleanup and other chores and changing the diaper, I spent hours going around the house picking up clutter, straightening, and asking children to take responsibility for their stuff.  

At one point I was in the bathroom questioning why the cabinet was in disarray.  I just taken the toddler to the potty and was helping a little girl clean up her area.  Arguments were breaking out in other parts of the house.  I felt overwhelmed.  In frustration I said, "There are so many of you!!!".   I hope I didn't say that there are too many of them.  That would be ungrateful.  And I would never wish for there any one of them to not be part of our family.  But I was definitely sinking in the mire of hopelessness.  I sat on the toilet lid and stared into space.  It was a quiet place for the moment and I took advantage of it.  I felt badly for saying what I was thinking outloud.  But I wondered what to do with such yucky feelings...then the baby wandered back down the hall toward the bathroom where the door was open.  He said, "Ma", in his precious 13 month old voice.  Then he walked over and kissed me on my lap.

In my heart I told the Lord I was sorry for being irritated over having so many children to care for.  I realized that in order to have less children I would certainly not have the pleasure of knowing beautiful Joshua, our ninth, and most recent baby.  I tried to muster enough gratitude to move to a busier part of the house and get back to work.

Those thoughts quickly faded into the noise of another crisis in another room.  So I went back to chasing my tail...within the hour hopelessness crept in again.  I felt sad and overwhelmed.  I kept going through the motions of cleaning up and giving  instructions.  

I pulled everything out of a drawer that was long overdue for a cleaning.  I put everything on the counter and began wondering why and how each item had arrived in that particular place.  I kept most of my questions to myself.  (In our house we have a habit of saying outloud things like, "Why would someone decide that the Gorilla glue belongs in this drawer".) 

Then I saw the hot pink index card.  I recognized it from a batch that I had used over a decade ago in a ladies' prayer group that I once led.  I've never had any index cards in hot pink since, so I always know when I've stumbled  upon one out of that special group.  Back then I had only four children (sarcasm intended) and I was finding the end of my own capabilities for the first time in my life...the verses are so powerful so I never throw them away.   When I read it I could hardly believe that I don't already have that verse memorized.  Then I laughed outloud because I knew that only God could love me enough to send me that message, today, at that very moment.  I instantly understood that my Heavenly Father has been watching me and loving me all morning.  I am not alone and I am not without hope.  The verse won't change my life unless I keep it in the forefront of my mind.  My children don't know, or maybe even care, that I am running out of zeal for this occupation.  But God knows.  I hope He never stops sending me words, His Words of encouragment.  I need them so badly. 

Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing your toil is not in vain in the Lord.                                          I Cor 15:58

The View from the Other Side

We had a thought provoking experience today at the blueberry patch.  I'm still wondering exactly how to document it.  It is mostly about how appearances do matter, atleast until you have the time to get to know someone and can really hear one's heart. 

Twice this year while out in public we noticed another family from afar and someone in our family has said quietly, "Look!  Homeschoolers!".  On both occasions we have recognized a group of people who are different from the general public either in dress, countenance, behavior, family size or a combination of even a couple of those characteristics.  We were seeing what others might have seen when looking at us.  It was a great opportunity for lively discussion about our appearance. 

We know that other people have thought or said the same about our family of eleven as we have marched through the mall, mostly clad in skirts and non-pop culture type clothing.  It is so obvious that the older ones often resist going out all together because they know people will be counting and staring.  They always get a great pep talk about how they should be proud and thankful for the family God has given us.  Better yet, they are reminded of what a great opportunty we have to speak about Jesus through our actions and our words because we know people might notice us, or engage us in conversation. 

Over the last couple of years our ideas about how we want to look has changed, however.  So while we might have been able to identify with the families that we saw in public, both today and a few months back, we weren't dressed like them and maybe didn't even stand out, as they did, from the crowds. As a result of our changes we have felt like undercover conservatives, or secret homeschoolers.  Especially since we didn't have but a small portion of our family on both outings, we really were able to fly under the "large family" radar and watch how other people responded to them.  Better yet, we could look at our own hearts and see how we responded to their appearances.

It was a strange feeling to not be the ones who folks might wrongly tag as "Amish, "Mennonite" or "Pentecostal".  We were wearing pants because it was really cold, or because we can't stand mosquitoes on these two particular days, but generally we do chose skirts or dresses for the females in our family.  We all hate the "tennis shoes with skirts" combination but have defnitely worn that before also.  Since we have been vacationing in the mountains twice a year for the last three years, we've been forced to acquire more practical clothing for outdoors and cold weather.  Full time skirt wearing is ok if you are always inside, never trying to exercise, or don't do any hard labor.  We've given it up.  But having said that, we feel nothing but compassion towards those who continue to dress that way all the time. 

We struggled constantly with ripped back kick pleats.  We hoarded knee socks when they were in style so that we would still have them for the next year of cold weather when no one would be selling or wearing them.  We could barely find comfortable, durable, good-looking shoes that could be worn with skirts, especially in the winter.  Changing diapers in the floor, or stretching exercises, were nearly impossible.  These days, we think it's easier to put on a skirt when we go out.  For an active home life or vacation, we choose clothing that suits our activity level.  We think that is pleasing to God.  And we still strive to keep all the clothing modest.  It's more work with pants, but God's family reputation is worth the effort. 

Our family has been shocked at the amount of attention our family draws. Our teen girls did not like being identified as "homeschoolers" just because they had skirts and simple outfits.  In fact, they have grown to reject the idea that their clothing has to been plain and culturally irrelevant.  I agree with them.  I too have abandoned the legalistic idea that wearing a skirt and large top is more godly than a more flattering outfit.  There is a fine line between dressing for the wrong sort of attention and choosing clothing that is complementary to the season in which we currently live.

For example, when I am pregnant, I strive to look my best.  Mostly I make this a priority because I do not want to portray motherhood as a burden.  Likewise,  I do not want young wives to think they have to give up feeling or appearing pretty in order to raise children.  God doesn't describe marriage and motherhood this way.  Fruitful vines, the wife of one's youth, graceful does, and so on, are not ugly word pictures for mature ladies.  I have been grateful for each new baby inside of me and God grants a special beauty and glow to most every pregnant lady. I think I glow with joy.  With each new pregnancy I have tried to make or buy (in thrift stores mostly) maternity clothing in colors that compliment my complexion.  I also avoid shapeless clothing.  This requires an honest assessment each time an outfit is worn since a pregnant woman's figure is constantly changing.  A once modest outfit can suddenly become inappropriate when a growth spurt hits.  But I do not mind the extra effort since I have had many experiences with my appearance as a mother of nine being  an encouragment to a young mom.  They say, "You don't look like you've had nine kids!"  I think that's good since apparently they don't expect a mother of many to look very good.  How sad is that?   What have Christian women throughout history done to make young people think that parenthood is ugly?  The most beautiful people I know are mothers of many children.  Maybe it's the blessing of God, supernaturally, or scientifically because estrogen has so many good properties; or it could be that mothers of many know that they will have to make an attempt to keep up a healthy appearance,therefore we take better care of ourselves.  Whatever the case, our appearance communicates with the next generation.  I think we should make the message in agreement with God's word:  children are a gift of the Lord.

Kendal and  Kelsey have done a fabulous job of making their own clothing.  They make adjustments on dresses to help them fit better and to be more modest than the original pattern can afford.  We still disagree on ocassion about a pair of jeans, or if a skirt should be worn instead of pants.  These are minor details and as a parent I know that getting to the heart of the matter is most important.  So we explore the reasons why they would choose one item over another.  I have found them to be very teachable in this area.  If they ever are not, I generally pull out the "Mom card" and insist that they follow my advice for as long as they are in our home.  : )  However, I try to keep us from drifting to that necessary and dreaded conclusion.

Back to today, we were all wearing long pants in the berry patch, even blue jeans.  Kelsey wondered if the skirt-clad family judged us as heathens, specifically her, as a young lady for wearing jeans.  We were both having many questions in our minds.  For example, the mother had a very young baby strapped to her chest with a fabric wrap and a nursing cover.  I have been that very patch with an infant strapped on my chest during atleast three summers.  In fact, this summer is the first time I have picked berries, while my youngest ones were at home.  I was in the patch today with four children ages 7-15!  The other mother didn't even seem to notice me.  Kelsey wondered if the other teenage girl thought anything of her.  I dare say that if our entire family had been there, we'd been in skirts, and my baby were strapped to my chest, we would've had a conversation with them.  We would've recognized our kinship.

I wondered how many times we mentally had dismissed other families who appeared to be small or more liberal than us...What does that mean?  Is it important?  We talk to all sorts of folks.  We certainly never confine our friendliness with strangers only to other large families.  In fact, Bob and I are both drawn to older couples, young couples, single young adults,...we love to talk to anyone God puts in our paths.  But admittedly, we have a keen interest in those who seem to be "like" us.  Most large family members are curious about the inner workings of other large families, or homeschoolers and so they seek one another out.
 
It was funny that the other family had parked next to our minivan.  I only wish I had the bumper sticker that I have always wanted to make saying: my other vehicle is a 15 passenger van.  The other family had a 12 passenger and five or six children.  : )  They were feeling large.  We understood their situation better than they knew.  While we were all buying our berries their two year old fell in the ditch and cried.  Boy!  Could we relate.  Had our three year old been there everyone in the patch would've known his name.  Instead we kept hearing them call her name, "Noel!"  It was such an "outside looking in" sort of experience.

There is much to be said here about not judging others, not focusing on outward appearances, and not being bound by or judgmental about legalistic characteristics.  It's not even fair to assume that someone who wears skirts with tennis shoes in a berry patch is legalistic about dressing a certain way.  I can conclude however that how we dress is just as important as how we act.  Even if our clothing is only the reason for someone talking to us or stereotyping us, it is being used as a vehicle for communication.  We should be careful about what we are saying with our clothing choices and be even more careful about what we decide about others based upon their choices.

I think legalism, rebellion and apathy are equally evil.  We should dress to honor God, please our husbands/dads, respect and protect the opposite gender from purposeful temptation, and to maintain an honorable reputation on behalf of any group with which we associate.  Always avoid even the appearance of evil.  Likewise, the maintenance of a clear conscience will provide a joyful countenance which over rules all types of clothing.  The joy of the Lord is so rarely seen in a public place.  All are drawn to it.  People wonder why someone is so happy.  It's a mystery to many.  Unhappy people in legalistic type dress create confusion and doubt about their assumed religion.  Jesus followers have reason to be the happiest people on the planet.  So a smile, or a cheerful countenance, is still is, by far, the best clothing choice.

Zoo

Today I took the six youngest children to the zoo.  Bob met us there during his lunch break.

We all love to watch the prarie dogs (behind us).   They had a lot of babies to see this time.

Bob and I posing as orangutans.  The real ones look so very sad.  On this day the smaller one (female?) was sleeping under a piece of fabric with only her face showing.

Joshua enjoyed the new water spouts near the gibbon and tiger exhibits.  These are a great idea for hot summer days!

Joy, Anna, Noah and Mary posing as otters.  Cute!

Yes, these are our favorites!

Back home...

It's our sweet one year old baby in the tree.

Summer Vacation

It seems that my blogging is now quarterly.  : )  That's ok.  I'm thankful I made it through today and mostly with a smile on my face.  It was busier than any day I can remember in awhile. 

We've just returned from ten days of vacation in the beautiful mountains of Virginia.  We revisited our favorite place in Floyd County and then travelled a couple of hours to Smith Mountain Lake.  We celebrated two family birthdays and a wedding during our stay in Floyd. 

This was our first trip out on our new rubber boats.  We filled both boats with air, and then filled them both with children and life jackets.  The little private lake on our friends' property in Floys was the perfect place to get acquainted with our new purchases.  Most of the children became expert rowers/boaters during the week.

Bob and I took the youngest boaters with us.  Anna, Noah and Joshua are  in this photo with me.  The older ones have their own boat.

While we ran around taking "engagement photos" for Carrie and Brian we asked for a quick one of us at the "campground" on the Floyd property.  It is a plush area surrounded by trees and the creek.  It's always cool and a great get away from it all!

It was such a wonderful night at Chateau Morrisette with my husband, mother, stepdad, sister, her fiance, and the couple who owns the Floyd property.  We celebrated my stepdad's birthday with a delicious meal, gorgeous mountain scenery and hours of laughter.  It was exactly what my sister and I had hoped for when we planned this surprise over two months before.  Since our stepfather was diagnosed with colon cancer last spring and had since then endured chemo, radiation and surgery, we were thrilled to be with him.  We had missed an entire year of his life and were grateful to have him back.

This is Buck and Darlene.  They own the cabin in Floyd and vacation with us there twice a year.  They are the most generous and kind folks that we know.  We've adopted them as a fourth set of grandparents.

 This the the view from the Chateau Morrisette towards Buffalo Mountain.  The restaurant is basically on the Blue Ridge Parkway.

 Mom, Bill, Bob, me, Carrie (my sister) and Brian before dinner.

The next day my sister was married to Brian at the lake by the cabin.  They had agreed upon a simple outdoor wedding and it was perfect.  Weddings are much more fun when you can spend the morning fishing, four-wheeling and creek exploring.

This our family with Mom and Bill, Carrie and Brian, and Brian's children, Vivian and Dylan

 

Sunday was our precious Joshua's first birthday.  We basically played all day outside, gave him gifts randomly to keep him happy outdoors and ate icecream in his honor after dinner.  He LOVED all the singing and clapping when we lit his candle and sang "Happy Birthday".  We were all laughing and clapping.  It was the most joyful birthday.  It was especially great that Mom and Bill were there to celebrate it with us and to bless our little Joshua too!

On Monday, when all the other families were gone, we enjoyed a lazy day with Mom and Bill.  We ended it with smores and worship around the firepit.  The sky was more beautiful than a painting as the sun set.  The bullfrogs croaked in the lake.  We all slipped off to bed with our bellies and hearts full.

 Joshua loved the hammock.  It was easy babysitting for the person who was in it with him. : )

Bob caught Mom licking every finger in an attempt to rid them of melted marshmallows.  It's a smores-related dilemma.

We were sad when my parents left but we did enjoy our time alone at the cabin too.  We truly vacationed...we lounged in the sun on the lake, fished more, took a family ride on the four wheelers using a trailer behind us and closed out another day with a prayer by the fire.

I was lazily lying in the boat when Daniel offered to row me around the lake.  How could I turn him down?  We jumped off at the dam and visited the spillway.  We stood in the middle of the rushing water and enjoyed the awesome sound!




 Bob, Kendal and Isaac took the paddle boat out for a ride.

We really enjoyed these rubber boats we bought this year.  We paddled them all over Buck's lake and then at Smith Mountain lake in our little cove.  They were so comfortable and perfect for exploring the shores and lake bottom.  Being that close to the water while not tipping over is a rare treat.  All of the children were safe in these boats.  They also enjoyed jumping out of them to swim.

We were so very sad to leave the cabin in Floyd.  But the three days that followed at Smith Mountain Lake did not disappoint.  The lakehouse and the weather were wonderful.  My dad visited us there with his boat and fixed a fried fish dinner for us.  The children fished and boated all day with him.  In the evening Susan, my stepmom, joined us and even brought Christmas gifts for our family.  Christmas in June can be fun!

Anna caught the biggest blue gill off of the dock at the lake.  All of the children caught many fish and some, like Joy, caught their first on SMlake.




 The dock at the lake house was a great source of fun for fishing, swimming and boating. 

Hesitant to leave the beautiful water and rolling hills of the western part of our state, I pleaded for a side trip to a place called "The Falls" just nine miles south of Crewe,Va.  We had to hike a ways through tick-laden weeds, but it was worth it.  The water level was clearly lower than usual but the falls were great.  We stayed there for a couple of hours and hope to go again another day.

Kendal with Joshua at The Falls




Sitting on a log by the Falls while Joshua nursed.  We really needed to get back to driving home but no one wanted to leave!  Kendal had just lost a flip flop (whick Isaac saved) and falled in the mud. : (