enough

What do I want God to whisper in my ear tomorrow as a I press through my day?  I want to hear Him say He is enough.  That my expectations are not too high, except that I must turn my clenched-teeth grimace to Him - and that He is enough.  He is more than enough.  His forgiveness covers all my sins, His love fulfills all my cravings, His provision satisfies all my hunger.  My husband isn't strong enough, my children not sweet or clever enough, my home not comforting enough -  none of these - only my Lord is enough and I want to remember and be satisfied.  And turn my grimacing into rejoicing.
Thanks for asking, Liz.  You bless me.

Fortress safe and secure

Proverbs 14:26
Whoever fears the Lord has a secure fortress, and for their children it will be a refuge.

This verse is on a tattered index card taped behind the sugar bowl.  I saw it again this morning as I scooped mine into coffee.  Yesterday I had fever and aches and cough - like all the other people in my county - so I sat on the couch.  My children schooled themselves and fed themselves and we waited for Daddy to finally come home from school to take care of us.  He texted me to say "don't watch the news, don't let the kids see."  As the cold chill struck me, I answered "uh, we're doing science not news, what??"

So, after Daddy came home and sent me to nap, I got to pray and think.  We're safe.  The same safe we've been.  We live in the same wretched world that we did last week.  There has never been any security for us in the guns Daddy keeps near or the country home or the Ohio address.  Our security comes from a Sovereign God.  He is our secure fortress.

Last week our Voice of the Martyrs magazine came and before I could tuck it away from little eyes, my 3-yr-old asked why the little girl had a hurt arm - and why was it short - and was she sad?  Oh yes, I told her, she is very sad.  But look, she's a precious girl just like you!  Little and soft and see her pretty brown eyes, do they look like Mommy's brown eyes?  And that satisfied my Anna.  But not my 8-yr-old Ruby.

For Ruby there must be answers.  And the answer is that sin and evil live in the hearts of men, in each of our hearts.   Without the Christ, to clean our hearts, the sin and the evil rule - and this precious little girl in the picture lives in a village where bad people came - they came to hurt the people there because they didn't want to be Muslims.  So we prayed for the little girl to be healed and not afraid and to have a strong heart.  And we prayed for all the children in the world who have fear and hurt.

And later last night, while dinner cooked (oh thank you, dear husband), we 6 cuddled on the couch.  Daddy gave the terrible report and my kiddos eyes got very wide.  They have almost no school experience - except that every day their Daddy goes there to "teach the kids".  Schools, to them, are dinner conversation and a fun place to visit Daddy.

We had the conversation again - sin and evil rule in the hearts of men - but there is hope.  Where horror and fear rise up, the hope is still greater.  Here is the question I ask my children when they tell me their terrible fears:  "what if that did happen, then what?"  And the answer is Jesus.  Jesus would take me to heaven.  Jesus would take you to heaven.  Jesus would give me courage.  Jesus loves me and so if I was hurt, he would help me not be too afraid.  I asked Jesus to clean my heart, so I know He did, so I know I could be brave and I would not be a bad guy.

That is our secure fortress, for surely the sin and evil are real, but our King has a fortress in which we can hide.  We have a future with Him, no matter what horror today brings.  And we have hope for tomorrow - there is always, always redemption.  What is meant for evil, is turned miraculously into good.  We are safe.

When my kids are afraid, they cuddle closer.  They whisper, I love you, Mommy.  And that is what I do with my King, in His fortress, I cuddle closer, I whisper "I love you, I need to be closer, thank you for tucking me in" and I draw my children close into His fortress.

Why do I home school

A sweet friend asked me for my top 4 or 5 reasons for home schooling as she considered options for her marvelously brilliant young boy.  So here's my response to her, for your reading pleasure :) I do not know why the fool-background color.  I cannot fix it.


yikes.  That is stressful - as I've not entirely convinced my husband of the obviousness of our continued schooling at home.  It's so obvious to me.  Why shove our beloveds into the mad crowd of schools, not when they have Mom's and Dad's who are capable and motivated and the resources are LIMITLESS!

I have a friend you might speak with.  She has a brilliant son who basically smart-ed out of public school - they just couldn't hold him down any longer - he ended up schooling himself (as many home schoolers do when they get up into middle and high school - my Peter is basically teaching himself Latin because I can't keep up with the memory work and so I'm only useful for elaborating on the grammar rules for him).   Her second child was struggled mightily and they tried lots of options and so this crazy wonderful mom is now an expert is some reading/teaching method and consults with people.  Point: she'd love to express the value and possibilities of educating a brilliant boy child from home (like yours!).

Our children were designed to thrive, to learn, to go get after their life-purposes.  Our jobs are to empower them, give them boundaries and opportunities, protect them from harm (physical, spiritual, emotional) and make them ready to do battle victoriously in life and delight in giving glory to God through their work.  Woooo hoo!!!  I get so excited.  I listened to a radical seminar the other day - he said that he teaches his children to read so they can devour the Word of God, to think so that they can decipher it and the teachings of man, and to write/speak so that they can be ready with an answer that makes sense for those who ask.  Yes!!!

I home school my children so that

1.  They grow with wide-eyes-open awareness that all we say and do in life is shaped by our worldview and that we can distinguish the motivations and worldviews of other people.  There are differences and they are important.

2.  To shape their learning to their distinctly created selves - each have amazing strengths and differences and they will obviously learn best when the ratios are in their favor (4:1 is pretty nice, though I'd vote for 10:1 if Kevin would just jump on board ;)

3.  Time is limited - we only have minutes and hours and days before we send them off as adults - let's not squander.  The traditional school day wastes HOURS of their childhood that would be better spent at play (mine were insistent that the stuffed animals MUST play The Great War (WWI) NOW, not after I finished our history chatting - that is awesome, I think).  We learn much while tromping through the woods and doing chores and helping each other.  Chores and school work and family life are not separate - our lives have beautiful unity of purpose - it's all really valuable.

4.  I don't trust other people.  They mean well, but they teach what they know (whether they are a 7 yr old peer or a well-meaning teacher) - and when it all comes down, God holds US accountable for how we instruct our children (Deuteronomy 6) and not the US Dept of Educ or the Church.  Also, the Bible calls children fools - and we all know that they are, that's why we don't leave them alone together for too long :)  So, while it is valuable to learn how to socially navigate, it is not valuable to do peer immersion.  As adults, we choose who to hang with, some adults choosing more wisely than others.  Children are not equipped to do this.  Studies show that a child can rarely resist a marshmallow on a table for a few minutes - they certainly can't resist the allure of their peers or the teachers they long to please.

5.  I adore my children - I'm greedy for them - we have a delightful time together.  It thrills my heart to hear their responses to Emperor Nero, to the drastic difference between Mary Poppins the movie and the novel, to the way the dog "played" with our brown chicken, and to the last birthday party they attended.  I want to walk with them through their childhood, help them to avoid missteps and identify hazards and delight in overcomings together.  It is a high-calling and I welcome that exhaustion.  Oh, to be all used up by loving my husband and children - not a bad deal.  

My husband asks "and what if something happens and you can't?" Well, there are plenty of terrible what-ifs - and we'll deal.  And we'll do our best in that situation just as we ARE doing our best in this one.  That's irrelevant.  We must choose based on today's resources.  So I think you should LEAP in.  Goodness, I've used enough capitals??!

You are welcome to come out and spend the day devouring all my resources.  I found it very helpful to immerse in a few households I admired - it gave me a starting place for buying and planning.  Children are organic (right?) creatures - so the plan must be malleable, seasonal even, and it helps so much to have families you admire to turn to in process.

Idol Worship

Before I get into it, you could see what we were doing last weekend here.  She chronicles it better than I :)

In the meantime, I've been grappling with idol worship.  Yes, I think so.  You see, as I drove to and fro from Arbonne events this week, I've been listening to Doug Philips of Vision Forum.  He made a little passing reference to the idols we set before us, even as we come seeking the wisdom of the Lord.  The idols not made of stone or wood, but in our heads - set before our minds and hearts to worship and consume us.  And then, too late, I lingered on the computer last night - getting some sweet nourishment from Ann and Bam! there it was again.

Now, I'm not so orderly or wise as Ann or as Doug.  But I know the truth which sets me free.  It is for freedom that I have been set free.  Freedom to worship and obey and live abundantly.  My abundance is characterized by grace for small children; energy for dinner-cooking; delight in couch-cuddles; vision for ordered meal plans and lesson plans and business plans; peaceful sleep between squalling babe and late-night girl-in-my-bed visits; cheerful bread-kneading, clutter-clearing, laundry-sorting, Arbonne-calling, irregular-showering!  That's my abundance!  

My idols woo me toward grumbling, spewing, scowling labors - my burden heavy and angry and blaming.  My children cower as the wellspring of my filthy-flesh-heart overflows all over them.  Blech.  I cower at the shame when the phone ring and my grumbles flip to a sweet "hello?"  Faker.  

So last night I knelt in the dark at chair (with a pile of laundry upon it) and asked for forgiveness.  God, melt my idols down into a puddle of useless laundry-worship and controlling-everyone.  I choose you, Jesus.  You can author my day, order my precious day.  Make peace of my pieces.  My laundry and meals and school books and calendar - they all remain.  Redeem them, Jesus.  Fill my cup with sweetness and grace so that as it is jarred and bumped today, I'll spill YOU all over.

hearing things, tuning

I am amazed at the things I hear. I have a weird buzzing that breaks into my thinking - always think it is my phone - but most of the time its nothing - paranoia? And as I sit here in the lightening morning with all of my kids still sleeping, I swear I hear the baby's distant "maaaaaama" in my ear. But I checked and she is still tucked in with blond wisps curling damp against my pillow, thinking that warm pile of down is her mama. My ears are tuned to the sounds I must consider important, eh?

I tell my kids to tune their ears to my voice. They are my children and there will rarely be any other voice as important for them to hear. My voice should break through into the cacophony of their play and imaginings, should burst through like a cymbal - and without me having to shout. How can I protect them if they don't hear me? How can I lead them and instruct them and help them if they ignore my voice. Hear me, children, because I love you!

Tune my heart to sing Thy praise ... and my ears to hear your voice, sweet Lord.

Christmas is Coming

I am struggling with my choices this Christmas. My heart is agreeing with Ann but my actions are quite predictably different from hers. Santa and I are both done shopping this year - or nearly. We weren't extravagant (though tempted). The decorations are up this year in a satisfyingly-spare way - to suit Anna's small wandering hands.

I am not cluttered up with decorations and I've tossed and sorted and found-homes (can't put it away if it doesn't have a place!) for lots.

But that isn't so radical or remarkable. It's just safe and conservative. It's not radical or memorable or especially life-giving. My heart is feeling wrung (twisted like my kitchen washcloth - that kind of wrung) when I think of getting and getting this year. I WANT presents - I like them - I'm greedy for them. Of course I'm sweetly "Oh, there's nothing I need" and all that - but I really like presents (for me) and I'm finally getting the hang of the "plan ahead" concept that makes giving fun, too. But aaaaaargh. I'm over-full and overwhelmed!

Just go read the Ann link. Perhaps you are braver than I.

no pictures

I have no pictures to post. They live on in my camera. I should be sleeping - I'd be more cheery in the morning, for the long, long day I have planned. Too long. Full of good things, but too much rushing.

Our small group friends lost everything in a fire today. That terrifies my children. It rather shames me, to consider all that I have and what it would be to lose all this stuff. Loose me of my stuff, Lord!! It constrains me, strangles me, irritates and grumps me - even as I crave more!!

I gave the walls chickenpox, per Peter. I spackled (is it spackeled) every dent and scrape and now the walls are comical. You might say they need to be re-painted, not just touched up. When spilling chocolate milk under the microwave, I found more scraped paint behind. It never ends. And when, oh when, did I think I'd be painting? Spackle, done. Sanding, wiping, painting? ha! Last time's spackle remains - that was at least 2 years ago. Comical.

I feel cynical when I blog. (That is the trend when no kid pics are involved. Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.) Not cynical, but bothered by the disconnect between my earnestness, my cravings for more holiness and my busy-body reality. I know I make a difference, I influence my family and many others - but, ahem, do I tread on holy ground and do they safely tread along behind and beside me.

I was baffled and honored when my business partner today said "I tell people, I met this girl and she has everything I want, so I thought I should copy her". She's talking about me. Good grief, Lord!! Be glorified, puhleeeeeze! Help - someone is blatantly following me - help them, protect them - how I pray that she will copy me straight to You, Jesus!!

Tomorrow between school and lunch appointment and groceries and birthday-party-readiness for Rube and Arbonne party, we hope to uncover all the things in our house that would be better at our fire-friends new place to live. Pray for us. Pray for my children. I need to go to bed so that we are sweet, generous and spirit-filled and not grumpy. Lord, why can't you set the emotional tone for our day instead of me? That is a mystery to me. I don't like having that job.

New daily hymn for morning cuddle time: I need thee every hour. Oh yes.

Secret Church

I've been reading Radical by David Platt and joined this read-along. So I'm reviewing Ch 1 and couldn't keep it to myself, so we read aloud this morning. We read about house churches and

how people must sneak and risk danger to gather together with their bibles to learn and praise together. They come in the dark, at secret locations, sneaking their whole families in, risking their lives, their property, their jobs and their loved ones.

They got dressed in suitable, secret-y dark clothes and created a shady tent for their church-spot. This is what my worshippers thought:

Ruby (5): I loved it. About you guys coming, because I usually only have 1 person at my church, but this time I had 4 people. I will want you to come back at the same time tomorrow, I will be there. Maybe. The baby should not come next time, maybe she could be sleeping since we will have our secret church so late in the night.

Isaac (7): I was the driver. My job was to drive the people who didn't know the way and one person who did know the way.

Peter(8): Mom was the guest and Isaac had to drive her to my secret hiding place. I hopped in the car and after we got a little ways from our meeting place, me and mom hopped out and crawled to our secret place in the tent. When we got there, Ruby and Isaac had to have a secret code to get in.

Ruby pretended she was basket-weaving before she came in, and when she came in she pretended she was going to bed like usual every day. The code word was Mark and both Isaac and Ruby had to say it before they came in. Isaac tried to scare us, but it didn't work. I was the security person. Hope you enjoy what I said.

Mom: It was hot in our church. And dark.

We read the beginning of the book of Mark with a flashlight. Ruby worked hard to "write" every word that I read - in case we didn't have my bible next time (I was the visiting bible-teacher). Anna climbed all over us and didn't do well with being quiet. We fear that someone outside may have heard us! Ruby led the singing: "hosanna, hosanna, hosanna in the highest" is what she chose. Because if we don't praise Him, the rocks will cry out. So we praised Him.

This cute picture of Anna is her wondering why we are driving a pretend car down the hall and why she isn't.