Lamentations 3:22

"Through the Lord's mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not." Lamentations 3:22

"Through the Lord's checed we are not tamam, because His racham fail not."

"Through the Lord's "goodness, kindness, faithfulness, and favor extended to the lowly, His lovingkindness in redemption from trouble, His preservation of life from death, His keeping of His covenants," we are not "at an end, finished, destroyed, 'summed up,'" because His "mercies, tender love, and His womb, as cherishing the fetus" fail not."

Thank You, Lord, for Your Word and Your love. 

Heart Prayer of Repentance

It's been a week of the Lord speaking to me in so many ways, they get fuzzy and jumbled. I feel the weight of sin, and the hope of truth and repentance. There's the dilemma of my head and heart not meeting, and old lies resurfacing. There are also "spiritual two-by-fours," as my husband calls them, that lovingly level me with ways God wants to change and shape me. 

I listened to a John Piper sermon called "Neither Do I Condemn You" at least four times late last week. The text was the end of John 7, and the beginning of John 8, where the Pharisees are nitpicking parts of the law, ready to stone the woman caught in adultery. Piper says that with circumcision on the Sabbath vs. healing a whole man, Jesus is drawing out the question, "What kind of a crazy use of the law is that?" 

I took notes on the last nine minutes of the sermon. Here are some points that stood out to me. Although my story isn't the same as this woman's, Piper's words to Christ's grace in all situations: 

• "In saying, 'Go and sin no more,' Jesus is saying, "I am re-establishing your holy life, my friend. I'm building it again...Here's the difference, woman: I have just put it on a new foundation, my grace. Do you hear this, woman? I'm not lessening the command to you ("Don't do it again"), but now, I have just forgiven you totally...Woman, I am rebuilding justice, I am rebuilding righteousness, I am rebuilding holiness, and I'm building it on grace." 
• "You have to have an experience of grace in your life before you can pursue not sinning. If you try to pursue not sinning without the experience of amazing grace, what do you get? Pharisaism...heartless misuses of the law."
• "'Be holy as I am holy,' but don't pursue this holiness until you've heard the words, 'Neither do I condemn you'...that's the point of the Bible...Come to Jesus for grace, and set your face to sin no more.

My head, heart, and journal have been so full of the fires of refining this week, I wondered how I'd be able to bathe it all in prayer and cover everything. There seem to be so many needs, so many areas in which to grow, that I have trouble remembering all there is to cry out with. I wrote a prayer and made several copies: one in my journal, one for my bathroom mirror, one to keep in my purse, and one tucked in the Bible by my bed. 

Holy Spirit, please work in my heart and mind. Let the words and actions of others not dictate who I am. Enable me to respond with truth and grace. Let me not be rash with my mouth. Let me draw near to hear, and not utter anything hastily. Lord, You are in heaven, and I am on earth, so let my words be few. Make me to love purity of heart, and have grace on my lips.

Jesus, show me my own plank before I examine another’s speck. Let my heart be centered on You rather on myself. Take me to Your feet at the cross, and enable me to lay my sin and troubles there. Transform the black clouds of my heart with the sunshine of Your redemption, enabling me to stand fast in the liberty by which Your blood has made me free. Change my heart to believe that my righteousness is by Your grace, not by my works. Enable me to receive the white robe of Your newness and protection.

Lord, let Your discretion preserve me, and Your understanding keep me. Enfold me with the ability to discern what to do, and to possess cautious reserve in my speech, for Your glory and my good. Remind me that I am joined to my Bridegroom, Who was raised from the dead, that I should bear fruit to Him. Help my heart to remember and trust in the fact that I have died to the things that once held me, and that I serve in the newness of the Spirit. Enable me to grow in constant repentance, holding on to renewal, and believing that there is no condemnation for those in You, Jesus. Lord, help my unbelief, in Jesus’s name. Amen. 

I heard Tim Keller say this week, "The cycle that you must be growing in daily is moving from repentance to faith." Daily. Repentance to faith, all day long, till the sun goes down...then repeat in a new and different way, for a lifetime. Martin Luther's first of his Ninety-five Theses is, "When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, 'Repent,' (Mt. 4:17), He willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance." We are on a journey, and only arrive when we reach the destination of our heavenly home. I am constantly reminding myself that there's no point at which I'll lean back, fold my arms, and say, "Well, now I've arrived! I can stop growing spiritually." 

Donec iterum...

Forgiveness & Evangelism

These are two of many areas that stretch my faith greatly: forgiveness and evangelism. Forgiveness, meaning my understanding that through Christ, I'm forgiven; evangelism, as in how wimpy I can be when I don't allow God's help in telling others about Him.

I've come to depend on Psalm 103. The area around it in my Bible is crinkled with tear stains. I feel like I'm often on these pages because of my desperate plea to God to help me understand that I'm forgiven. Verse 3 clearly states that the Lord "...forgives all your iniquities," yet my heart doesn't truly believe this applies to me. When I admit it out loud, it sounds ridiculous: Christ's blood is able to cover all the sins of the world...except for mine. Not only is it a preposterous lie, it's prideful. I'm not above the God of the universe's healing.

Satan knows that I buy into taunts of my being unforgivable, that I brood over and revisit past transgressions time and again. The Holy Spirit is working on my heart greatly in this area. I hear the enemy voice jeering, "How could you? What kind of mother/wife/friend/Christian are you?" and I choose to fall into his trap rather than believing God. Why is it so hard?? Because strongholds can be grueling and time consuming to break, and because we don't always trust that God is for our good in the trial. I continue to go before the Lord and ask Him to "unite my heart to fear His name" (Psalm 86:11), and to keep me from being the one in James 1:8, a "double-minded man, unstable in all his ways."

John Piper says that we usually make a mistake in thinking we need to "forgive ourselves." Most of the time, it's another person against whom we've sinned, and that is the one from whom we must ask forgiveness. Once we go before that person, and also confess our transgression to God in repentance, that's it! I have a hard time "letting myself off the hook," though...as if I were on my own hook, anyway. Aren't I on God's? And if that's true, doesn't He get to be judge? Isn't He already the judge of the universe? 

I told a wise friend about a mistake I made, one that I keep coming back to in my mind. I told him I wished I could allow myself to be human and make mistakes. He answered that I had usurped God's role as judge, marking myself because of one mistake. If mine are the only mistakes God can't fix, my friend says, "then He doesn't get to be God." 

Yesterday I told my girls a piece of information I later wished I'd kept to myself. I went to them and confessed that I was wrong to say what I did, that it was gossip. I reminded them that we never arrive at a moment when we're not growing and asking for forgiveness, and I asked for theirs in not setting a good example. Immediately they started patting my head and face, cut off my speech, and both said, "It's ok, Mom! We love you!" I knew in this moment that this is how our Father responds when we go to Him with our sin. He doesn't say, "Hmmm...let me think about it, and I might forgive you," or, "I can't forgive you yet, but maybe when you reform a little more." No! He's quick to love us, to say that "As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us" (Psalm 103:12). "As a father pities his children, so the Lord pities those who fear Him" (103:13). 

Evangelism is another area where the Lord is nudging me to grow. I live in a country where I can worship and proclaim Christ freely, yet I often shrink in terror when I feel a prod to say something about Him. It seems absurd that people in the Middle East are jailed and beheaded for being Christians, while I sit here, afraid to broach the subject with people of peace! 

My husband and I have a custom: when we dine out, we always ask our waiter/waitress if we can pray for him/her when we ask our blessing. Most of the time this is received well, and people will share their stories with us. Last week, my husband felt such a burden for our waitress that he gave her his card and asked her to get in touch with us if she needed anything. Her sad eyes stayed in our hearts long after that meal. Pray for Kaylee, please.

Sometimes our asking is answered with, "No, I'm fine," and one waitress even once said, "Pray for those who need it." That was an interesting response, especially since our pastor was at the table with us! Those are the folks who need it the most. Never have we had a contentious response in the years we've been doing this.

Asking a waiter has become easier over the years, although I confess that sometimes I still feel strange doing it. Why should it take such courage to initiate a spiritual conversation? Am I afraid the waiter will spit in our food, or worse...think we're weird?? Maybe we should aspire to be "weird" by the world's standards. Allowing this to come naturally takes time, like I mentioned before. Gaining boldness in any area is "deliciously harrowing."

With a waiter, it's one thing; that person's job is to serve, and they are trying to make money...I chuckle thinking he/she is a captive audience. However, here's another scenario: I'm having a conversation with someone (the parent of my kid's friend, a tennis coach, a relative, a lifeguard at the pool, maybe even one of my kids' friends)...anyone who forms a part of my routine life. I get the "nudge" to speak about God...NOW??!! HOW??!! "Do I have to?!"

As I type this, I'm brokenhearted that these would be my reactions. Lord, move me from NOW?? to NOW!!!!! Help me in those moments to call on You for the "how." Let the question not be, "Do I have to?" but rather, "How can I not?" 

I will insert at this point that, speaking before of the devil, he likes to make me feel absolutely rotten when I miss an opportunity. He calls me a coward, tells me I must not love the Lord, asks me what kind of Christian I am, and blah, blah, blah. Condemnation does not come from the Holy Spirit (Romans 8:1), but what He does give us is the conviction that we missed an opportunity because we weren't relying on Him for help. Any dark thoughts about it are from the enemy; we can go to the Lord and say, "Lord, I knew I should've said something, but I froze. Forgive me for not calling on you for the words. Please give me another opportunity to tell someone about You, and make me bold for it." I prayed this several times when we started our "waitstaff ministry," when I knew I should ask but didn't. 

Today a little fella sat beside me and told me he was seven-years-old, and that he was going to Boston soon "on business." It seems the trip is so that his four-year-old brother can receive one of his mother's kidneys. I wanted badly to tell this chatty guy that Jesus cares about his brother, but all I said was that I would be praying for everything to go well. I felt silly thinking that I was scared to talk about my faith to a school-kid! Those are the ones who best understand the kingdom of God! I pray I will be ready for the next opportunity, and I'd love another chance to talk to this boy! God is weaving forgiveness and evangelism together to help me grow in the truth that mistakes on my part, if I confess and turn, don't put the "HOPELESS" or "DOOMED" stamp on me. Satan wants me to believe that I'm too despicable to even pray to God about it; after all, why would He want to hear me when I cowered over bringing up His name? 

When a lie like that comes up, the best thing to do is defy it, and pray!
Lord, thank You that all of life is repentance. As long as there's life, there's hope. I rebuke the enemy's attempts at condemnation, and praise You for loving me always. Your Son gave His life for my shortcomings, and as a sinner, I need You desperately every minute. Give me the courage to share this Good News with others. Forgive and change my unbelief, and continue to grow me in your truth. 

I have typed my prayers in green, which reminds me of new life, of fresh growth. Here is another one, straight from King David. May we not be afraid to pray this, and to ask God for courage as He answers:
"Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Try me, and know my anxieties;
And see if there is any wicked way in me,
And lead me in the way everlasting." Psalm 139:23-24

June

It's that time of year again, that time I used to commemorate with friends giggling half the night in sleeping bags. June is a happy time for me, with sun, short sleeves, my birthday, and the Stanley Cup...go, Pens! My favorite ways to celebrate my birthday now include simple things that I enjoy. Our culture might label me as boring, but I'm old enough to be okay with it. 

There's the annual espresso cake tradition, begun last year by my husband: 

This cake has come to be a symbol of June for me, as it lasts a long time, and I savor its aroma and flavor sometimes for breakfast, sometimes during the day, and lately I've even indulged myself in a slice at night over an episode of one of my old favorites, "My Three Sons." The cake has become a highlight of my birthday that lasts beyond that one day.

Another tradition is a visit from my mom, who we call "Gaby." This year, we decided to have a girls' afternoon (Gaby, my girls, Abue, and I) downtown. We ate Kilwin's ice cream in the rain, then hopped over to Mast General Store. Before we ventured out, Gaby, who shares my love of old books, had presented me with these: 

I had never heard of these Maida books, first published in 1910 (my editions are a bit newer!). Imagine my surprise when I opened one and saw this inscription: 

I don't have a Grandma and Grandpa Male, but the rest of it sure did fit! Gaby hadn't noticed it when she picked these up at the thrift store, so she had a surprise, too!

Speaking of thrift store shopping, this is a birthday tradition I enjoy on the actual day. Last year, my girls and I went together; what a treat that they're at the age that I can take them along on treasure-hunting adventures! This year, our pal Liz went along. There's no one more adept at bargains and thrift stores than Liz. She buys something at each place we visit! Here we are, about to embark on the journey: 

And here she is, with a fabulous find:

The girls were good sports. They were dragged around to look at stuff from other people's attics from 10am until 4pm, and survived! We hit a few places in town, including a huge antiques place that's going out of business. Look at this funny book I found for a dollar: 

In looking through this work from 1963, it occurred to me that my parents were the "Teen-Agers" mentioned in the title. Maybe I should let them read it! You may think, Does she actually read all these books she talks about, or is she just an old-book hoarder?! The answer is yes, and...um...well, I wouldn't exactly say, hoarder...! I find space where I can keep these works of literature neatly displayed and organized. Yes, I do read them, several at a time, in bits and pieces; I find time to read at the kitchen table over a sandwich, in bed at night, at my kids' tennis clinics, and outside in the sun after my housework is done. 

June is also a time for selling books at an annual homeschool book sale. This year was my second year (all of these traditions...cake, thrift stores, book sale, started last year!), and it's so much fun! My friend Eliza and I shared a table and attempted to get rid of some curriculum and books we no longer needed. Our motto was, "May we earn more than we spend," because sellers are able to shop at the sale before it opens to the public!

The crowd was thinner than last year, but I did make a little cash, found a few interesting finds, and had a great time seeing old and new friends. Aside from the pristine copy of d'Aulaire's Book of Greek Myths I got for a mere $2, this was my purchase of the day: 

"How much are your Hardy Boys?" I asked the couple. "Five dollars..." began the lady, "...for the box." To which I exclaimed, "The whole box?!" And she even threw in those two Charlie Browns, which one daughter has already read! My husband and girls have enjoyed reading several books from The Hardy Boys series together at night, and we've started a small collection. Miraculously, we only owned one of the volumes in this one: a much crisper copy of the one you see with no spine! Notice there's even an Authentic Detective Methods for Solving Mysteries. I'd never seen this, but I imagine it's rare. The girls and their dad can read Hardy Boys to their hearts' content!

There are two things unique to this June, different from last year:

Our fourth summer in this house, the hydrangeas finally burst into full bloom! I believe I wasn't cutting this bush down enough in the winter. I still didn't cut it completely, but did some, and this was the result! Our vases in the house are full of them. 

Also, I just had the privilege of finishing this study: 

The ladies in our community group have spent over ten weeks examining our hearts, tearing down strongholds, rebuking the enemy, sharpening each other, and growing in Christ. I highly recommend this powerful work by Beth Moore. Thank you, dear Amanda, for initiating this in our group, and to all the ladies who shared their hearts with me during this time.

Here's to June!

Live & Learn

Some time ago, I put in my two cents on standardized testing. I'm still not a fan, although I just discovered something that obviously has some bearing on my strong opinion: I had administered the wrong test to my kids!

I was covered in despair last year as they tested and I glanced over their shoulders at the questions, many about items we had not covered. There was a lot of guessing on their part, and self-condemnation on mine. What kind of homeschooler was I? Why were my children "behind"? Did other kids in their grades know this stuff? In spite of my fears, they still scored average or above in most sections.

This whole school year, the dread of testing hovered like a dark cloud. Would my kids and I end up discouraged again after testing? Would the passages and problems seem like a foreign language to us again? Why should I spend my year teaching to a test?, I wondered with bitterness. I tried to adopt a "who cares?" attitude, although I care very much! My children's learning is too important to me to not care about every part, even a standardized test.

This morning, I ordered the CAT test again, thinking that we needed to get it over with sooner or later. I ordered from a different company, since this time I wanted to have them take the test untimed. Last year, I recalled having to specify the "grade entering," rather than the grades they had just completed. This time, the new company simply asked "Grade" for what test I wanted. Since my girls were in 3rd and 4th grades this year, I ordered the tests for grades 3 and 4. Logical, right?

The online CAT test is a good option, because sections can be taken over time. My 3rd grader wanted to start with Reading Comprehension, while my 4th grader began with Math Computation. As I looked over their shoulders today, I thought, these questions seem more reasonable this time! Then it dawned on me what had happened: last year, my child who had just completed 2nd grade had taken the 3rd grade test, and my child who had just completed 3rd grade had taken the 4th grade test. They are taking the same tests this year that they took last year! Why???!!!! 

I called and talked to a representative from the company I'm using this year. I explained to the lady that last year, I had to tell what grades my girls were "entering," rather than the grades they had just completed. This year, (same test but different company), I was asked for what "grade" test I wanted, so I naturally said 3rd and 4th, since those were the grades they had completed. Doesn't it seem obvious that someone who just finished 3rd grade would take the 3rd grade test?

The lady answered that they "recommend" taking the test for the grade level the student is entering, although many parents choose to have their child(ren) take the test for the grade completed. Are you as baffled at this point as I was, and still am? Why on earth would I spend time making sure my 3rd grader learned all those 3rd grade things, only to say, "Okay, you've done so well in 3rd grade...now here's the 4th grade test. See how well you can do on that!"?? Yet that's exactly what the testing company from last year had me do, and because of it, my kids and I wanted to pull our hair out! I didn't know otherwise; I assumed they were still taking the test for the grade they had just completed, and the company had made me list what grade they were entering for some type of protocol.

Where is the logic in working hard, improving in reading, math, reasoning, narration, comprehension, and many other skills, only to take a test with things on it that you'll learn next year? Isn't the point of a test to show parents and teachers what the child has learned, and where improvements must be made? Here I was, beating my head against a wall, wondering where I'd gone wrong, only to realize that where I'd gone wrong was in the level of test I'd administered! How relieved I am to now give them the right tests...the same ones they took last year, which are much easier this year!

The devil aims as many fiery darts of darkness and lies at me as he can. Many of those have to do with what kind of mother and teacher I am. I believed that I was lacking in some area of my teaching, all because of this ridiculous "recommendation." It's like telling an Algebra 1 student to take the Algebra 2 test. Nothing but frustration can come from it. I'm aggravated that the other company would give this as the only option in ordering the test, causing worry to people like me who didn't know better. However, there is great relief in realizing the truth. I had wondered many times how others could always remark that the CAT was so "easy," when I was thinking how hard it had been for my children. Wonder no more!

Here's my advice: if you use the CAT, make sure your children are taking the test for the grade level completed, not the grade they are entering. I naively assumed that if I said my kid was "entering" 3rd grade, the company still gave a test appropriate for someone who had just finished 2nd grade. How relieved I am to know the truth! To me, this is an illustration of letting "yes" be "yes," and "no," "no." Why not just ask, like the current company we're using, "Which grade test do you want?" Makes much more sense, because it's how things should be. Life (and, these days, education) doesn't have to be as hard as we make it. Absolutes will always be absolutes. Eight-year-olds will always have eight-year-old brains, regardless of our attempts to force advanced things into them. When Christ told us to be clear in our rhetoric, He, as usual, knew what He was talking about; it goes deeper than a simple yes or no. 

"But let your 'Yes' be 'Yes,' and your 'No,' 'No.' For whatever is more than these is from the evil one." Matthew 5:37

Spotless

It was one of those times when little annoyances seem magnified. There was spiritual warfare in the air! I knew it, but all I could do was say, "Help, Lord. Forgive my rotten attitude. Help me to focus and not fall into traps." 

Satan hates all I do that's good for my children. He especially hated that I'd decided to take my younger daughter out for breakfast, just the two of us. Since my girls are close in age and usually together, I've begun finding ways to spend a little individual time with them. Our enemy detests that; he doesn't want to see mother/daughter relationships growing. 

My girl had felt it, too; she even went to bed the night before saying, "I don't really wanna go tomorrow." I knew what that was all about....he can get into all of our heads, and likes to start young. We went anyway, and had a fabulous time. When we got home, more battles ensued.

First, it was sisters fighting over how screen time would be allocated later. Then there was grumbling over math. Then there was my skipping sections of the book because the tension in the air was thick, and my nerves were frying. Then I looked out the window and noticed three (not just one anymore; he went and told all his friends) squirrels wreaking havoc at the bird feeder. Finally, I noticed that the spray bottle I'd grabbed to scare them off had had some type of old, gooey, white paint on it...which was now not only on my hands, but also on my pants, some of my favorite pants. It all added up to a snowball of pesky annoyances, the kind that you know aren't a big deal, but the devil uses the combination to blow a person's top!

I was indignant over the white spot on my blue pants. The more I scrubbed to get it out (in Shakespeare style, "Out, damn spot! OUT, I say!"), the more I realized that it wasn't going to come out. I threw them in the washer and hoped for the best, all the while telling the Lord I wasn't proud over all my frustrations that morning. I couldn't get past the fact that if my girl and I had a delightful time at breakfast, the enemy was going to find some other way to irritate us.

When I took them out, there was a sinking feeling when I looked and saw that the spot indeed hadn't come out. Oh, well, I thought as I hung them on the drying rack. The pants look kind of denim, so at least it'll sort of blend in. What more could I do?

I went back to the laundry room at least an hour later to throw in a load of whites. I glanced at my pants again to see if the stain had become less noticeable. Where was it? Yes, those are the same pants, I thought, and I'm looking right where that stain was...but WHERE is it?! I looked once more. I know that stain was there, I told myself. I saw it and lamented it when I pulled the wet pants out to dry! Then it hit me: God had removed that stain.

"They're spotless!" I told myself. And the Holy Spirit, in His still, quiet way, told me..."Just like you." I was dumbfounded.

Nothing I could do, no amount of fixing or trying, was able to remove that stain. God Himself had to do it. What a beautiful visual of my salvation: nothing in my power was able to take away the stain of my sin, except Christ Himself. I fully believe God gave me this experience as a beautiful reminder. I wasn't looking for it; I simply had gone to Him in repentance over how silly I'd acted about all that insignificant stuff, and how I'd allowed the enemy to get under my skin. In His grace, my sweet Lord loved me back like only He can. I am spotless, just like the pants. It's how He sees me, and I'm overcome.

Hey, Moms of Girls!
I just finished a fantastic must-read for those of us with what they now call "tweens," or girls ages 8 to 12. In her book, Six Ways to Keep the "Little" in Your Girl, purity expert Dannah Gresh advises and encourages moms of girls on how to have those difficult conversations many of us have been afraid of. Through her own experiences, Gresh sheds light on how we can approach hard conversations about the changes our girls will soon go through, and God's perfect design for sex and motherhood. She tackles how to handle them when our girls are still what many of us consider "too young," but warns that waiting until they're teenagers to approach these topics is waiting too late. In our culture, we must equip our daughters with accurate, Biblical information, or someone else will fill their heads with the opposite. 

I don't always enjoy "how-to" books, but this wasn't like that at all. Dannah Gresh has done her homework, and understands how moms, girls, and the world think. Her book reads as one friend talking to another, mom-to-mom. She imparts the wisdom and courage that we moms need to train up our girls in the way they should go. When they are older, they will not depart from it; I trust these words because the Bible tells me so (Proverbs 22:6).

Another resource I'd purchased long ago that I decided to pull out is The Christian Girl's Guide to Change, Inside and Out by Rebecca Park Totilo. This is a simple, fun, interactive book where girls learn about body changes, hormones, and health, and they get to answer questions and read funny scenarios, with Bible verses scattered throughout. My older daughter was enjoying it so much, I decided to get one for her sister, too. Dannah Gresh says that even if girls haven't yet experienced the changes they're learning about, they will be well prepared. I like this book because it's light-hearted and focuses only on body changes, not sex or reproduction. It's one that my girls can enjoy on their own, knowing I won't read the things they write. 

Finally, I wondered...what to do about the "biggies" I mentioned being excluded in the fun book? What's just enough to tell them, and what can wait? I found How You Are Changing for girls ages 9-11, and we're going a chapter at a time. It's a good idea to peruse the reading before you read it aloud to your child(ren). One dilemma I had was the feeling that my older girl was ready for some information that I might want to wait on for the younger. I struggled a bit on how to handle this, because remember, they do a lot together. I prayed for wisdom, and the answer was simple: skip the "heavy" parts when reading to both girls, and take time alone with my older girl to go back and read those parts just to her. 

No one ever said we can't omit, or "read over," parts our kids can't handle at the moment. It's like with a movie; we can fast-forward through an inappropriate scene in an otherwise worthwhile film. We have the autonomy to gauge our kids' readiness. (Side note: this reminds me of the time I was reading to them from Lang's Blue Fairy Book, written in the late 1800's. Thankfully, I caught the word "hussy" and changed it to something else before it slipped out! I haven't always been so fortunate, but they're guaranteed learning experiences).

Pure, spotless...it's how He sees us, and how He wants us to live. May we trust Him to grow us in it, always.

Recent Reads

I always have several books going at a time. Some take much longer than others. There never seems to be sufficient time to read, but I consider it mind-food; "professional development," I like to call it. It's amazing that, when I have a few minutes here and there and fill them with a paragraph or a few pages, the finishing of an entire book is soon accomplished. It all adds up; slow and steady does win the race.

Two books that have been long, steady, meaty reads are How To Keep Well by Albert Blaisdell, M.D., and A Turtle on a Fencepost by Allan C. Emery, Jr. 

Until recently, I thought I had to read one book at a time, consistently, without starting another until the first is finished. If I still espoused that philosophy, then I might only read two or three books a year. Richer books like these two are the kind I like to eat a few bites of, then digest slowly. There's nothing hard about Blaisdell's book; it's a science book written in 1895 to teach young people about the body, its intricacies, and how to stay healthy. The reading was never boring; check out how artificial respiration used to look: 

As fascinating as old medical books are to me, I can't exist on a steady diet of that same food all the time; my mind needs variety. I'm not always in the mood for this, just like I don't always desire pizza at every meal; my reading needs to be varied. 

Emery's book, A Turtle on a Fencepost, is a gem. It's simply about his life; he describes his youth, his service in World War II, and life as a wool salesman. The tales of Emery's parents and their rich, real faith in Jesus delight and encourage. He recounts the many ways the Lord worked in his life, and how his faith was grown over the years. Again, this is a book to savor slowly, whose lessons are tiny nuggets of wisdom to be pondered deeply. I grew to admire this man, seeing him as a kind friend in Christ, wishing I could sit and hear firsthand about his experiences. 

Two other books I finished a few weeks ago have basic similarities, yet startlingly stark differences:

The author of Laurel's Choices, Exie Wilde Henson, is first cousin of my husband's grandfather. She has captured the story of her parents, Joe and Ethel Wilde, in fiction form; this book is a condensed version of her other two novels. Frank McCourt also wrote about his parents' history and his upbringing in Angela's Ashes, telling raw truth with names unchanged. Both books focus on women, Laurel and Angela, and their lives; the reader experiences the details of their marriages, living situations, child-rearing, and intimate ups and downs.

Both were alike yet so different; Laurel's Choices was an easier read, although her family experienced its share of trials. This book depicts an educated woman's journey as the wife of a logger, living in the primitive conditions of a logging camp in the western North Carolina mountains in the 1920's. We get to travel with her through three decades as she has babies, cures illnesses, loves the unlovable, endures sorrow, leads Sunday school, prays for an unbelieving husband, fights for the right to vote, loses loved ones, and trusts the Lord. The reader watches Laurel's children's lives from birth to adulthood, enjoying each new adventure of the Worth family. This is a book that will keep you glued to its pages for hours.

As for Angela's Ashes, I had picked it up on the library sale shelf for a quarter. My dad had read it many years ago, and I remembered it as a best-seller. I decided to take it to the beach earlier this month, where I also took Laurel's Choices. When I finished Laurel's story, I took up Angela's. I spent many hours in this place, also unable to tear myself away from the details of her life:

Actually, one difference is that McCourt's book focuses on his own childhood, with his mother's story tucked into the folds. Who she was and the decisions she made greatly affected the chronicle of young Frank. If I had to describe McCourt's childhood in one word, I couldn't decide between two: appalling, or horrific? I wanted to take this little boy into my own home and love him like he deserved.

Angela's Ashes takes place almost exactly during the time period of Laurel's Choices, and both families lived in crude conditions. However, as I stated, the differences between these women and their households are severe. I didn't know whether to feel sorry for Angela, or to take her by the collar and shake her. I never felt sorry for Laurel, not even in the worst tragedies. Parts of both books are hard to stomach, although for different reasons. Laurel's story contains detailed descriptions of medical scenarios and their household remedies; Angela's has vivid images of abuse and poverty, plus some sexual components. 

Frank McCourt states that it's a miracle that he lived through his childhood; I read this statement before I began the book, and it didn't take long for me to see what he meant. You may ask why I would want to read a book like that! In reading his account, I realized that McCourt's story was worth reading, not just for the man who probably healed immensely in writing it, but also for that innocent little boy who experienced such tragedy. I could only imagine how many adults I know today who lived through other traumatic experiences, myself included. We know nothing of peoples' journeys, and reading McCourt's intensifies the fact that we are all image-bearers with hurting hearts. My heart hurt for that little boy, and this book actually brought growth to my own heart. There is a sequel, 'Tis, that I'm not sure would be good for me to read. Toward the end of Ashes, descriptions began to be racy and heavily sexual in content, with McCourt as a young man on his way back to America, where he was born. As much as I would enjoy knowing how his story turned out, I don't know if I can handle the mind-pictures painted of this hurt boy's adulthood.

Speaking of food...

My eight-year-old presented me with this lunch awhile back. I love not only rich mind-food, but the richness of food prepared with love! God often allows her to minister to me in this way, whether it's making me a special dessert, drawing me a picture, or folding my bath towel hotel-style! It still is, and always will be, the "little" things that are big.

Some pearls from Charlotte Mason (from Chapter 6 of A Philosophy of Education):

"...we are empirically certain that a chief function of education is the establishment of such ways of thinking in children as shall issue in good and useful living, clear thinking, aesthetic enjoyment, and, above all, in the religious life."

"If we fail to ease life by laying down habits of right thinking and right acting, habits of wrong thinking and wrong acting fix themselves of their own accord."

"Physical fitness, morals and manners, are very largely the outcome of habit."

So....do we as adults exhibit good and useful living ourselves? Do we enjoy clear thinking, beauty, and a growing walk with Christ? Is this remotely close to what passes for education today? Are we as parents demonstrating right thinking and acting? Not that we are perfect, but that we repent and grow, trusting in God's Son, the only One who is perfect, pointing ourselves and our kids to Him? And do we think that morals and manners are just "lucky," depending on our kids' temperaments, or do we run a slow and stead race, instilling good habits in our kids as well as in ourselves, asking God's help at every step? Serious food for thought.