MERRY CHRISTMAS!

He was born of a woman so we could be born of God...
He humbled Himself so we could be lifted up...
He became a servant so we could be made heirs...
He suffered rejection so we could be His friends...
He denied Himself so we could freely receive all things...
He gave Himself so He could bless us in every way!

"He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?" Romans 8:32

May you know His love this Christmas.

CHRISTMAS FUTURE

"You are worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honor and power; for You created all things, and by Your will they exist and were created."
Revelation 4:11

The Lamb who was slain alone deserves glory, praise, and honor. Everything we have and everything we are comes from Him. Our talent, our intelligence, our moral knowledge all come from Him. As Jill Briscoe puts it, "We owe our next breath to His will, our finest hour to His enabling, our little triumphs to His grace. What have we that we have not received? One day we will cast these earthly crowns at His feet where they belong!"

CHRISTMAS PRESENT

At this moment (I'm not committing to anything beyond that!), I believe I have all my Christmas preparations done...I think. The gifts are wrapped, the stockings stuffed, the cards are sent. I may have forgotten something or something may come up at the last minute, but I'm not going to worry about it. I have so much to be thankful for this Christmas season and every day. The holiday spirit was dimmed somewhat this year with the tragic death of a friend earlier this month in a horrible mill accident. He was 41 and left behind a wife and three young children. Their loss is ever present in my mind as I go about the holiday preparations, parties, concerts, and worship services with my family intact. I can't imagine the pain this young wife and mother must be feeling as she tries to guide her grieving children through this time. I want to do something to ease their difficulty -- I've written our condolences, made offers of help in any way needed, and sent money to help with the financial burden. These may be appreciated but, to me, they seem so inadequate. I can't heal their wounds, I can't give them hope for tomorrow, or peace for today. But God can and so I intercede for them in prayer; asking that He would comfort them, hold them, bring His people alongside to walk with them through this valley. I pray that He would give them His peace, which is beyond our understanding. I believe that is what the heavenly host were speaking of when they praised God above the fields of Bethlehem, saying: "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men!"

CHRISTMAS PAST

In the midst of the present last-minute Christmas preparations, I find myself reflecting back on the Christmas of my childhood. I recall the most special gifts being the ones crafted by my parents' own hands: knitted socks, sweaters, Barbie clothes, and, yes, the striped skirt with matching vest. Warm slippers my father made for my sisters and me by cutting up the lining of a shearling coat and sewing them with his awl. A wonderful red barn with a lift-off loft he made for our youngest sister, Nancy, was envied by both Tara and me. But Nancy coveted shelf space on the bookshelf he made for us.

Without a doubt the most memorable Christmas for me is the year Dad decided for us that we would not receive gifts, but instead, give gifts to the Baby Jesus. That idea didn't immediately appeal to us kids (and it horrified our grandparents!) but as Dad talked about the real meaning of Christmas and focused our thoughts on the blessing received through giving, we girls became enthusiastically supportive of the whole idea. We made some of our nicest Christmas gifts for our grandparents that year; coasters made of maple slices with the bark on, woodburned, and polyurethaned. We gave some of our favorite toys to children in town who didn't have as much. Dad gave us each a little spiral notebook in which we were to record our gifts to Jesus, such as: "Today I did not fight with my sister." "Today I did my chores without being told." "Tara made me really mad today but I did not say anything mean to her." Dad and I sewed life-size figures of Joseph and Mary out of burlap feed sacks and dressed them in bathrobes and towel headdresses. We made candle sconces out of coffee cans and Dad nailed them to the walls inside our log goathouse. We put hay in the feed trough and laid a swaddled baby doll there. On Christmas Eve, after we went caroling at the homes of shut-ins and old folks, we gathered in the goathouse, lit by our candle sconces, surrounded by goats, chickens, a dog, and probably a cat or two. There we knelt, one by one, and presented our gifts to the Baby Jesus, reading from our little notebooks. And, you know, in my young heart, I was sure I saw that Baby smile. The warm glow in that little stable on that cold, starry night has stayed with me for more than thirty years.

BLOG? WHAT BLOG?

Alright already. I have been getting enough feedback from people to bring me to the conclusion that I am supposed to be blogging. I have all the usual excuses for being absent from the wonderful world of blog -- too busy, writer's block, not enough time, nothing to say, too many other things to do, at a loss for words, and, last but not least, fear of redundancy.

It's not much but it's a start!

WITH THANKSGIVING

I love pie. Not pi(r)squared so much, but definitely pie(r)round; as in pecan, apple, raspberry...not pumpkin so much. I enjoy making pies as well as eating them. This frosty Thanksgiving morning, I am snug in my warm kitchen with a golden pecan pie cooling on my counter and two cinnamony-sweet apple pies bubbling in the oven for this afternoon's feast. (Mmmm...mashed potatoes and gravy)

I've been making quite a few pies lately. Baked an apple pie to take to a friend, and co-worker of Mark's, who fell off his roof last month, shattering his hip. Made an apple pie for my 86 year old granny, who can't make her own pies anymore because her arthritic hands "don't work so good anymore". Made an apple pie for my family because they looked longingly at the previous two as they exited the house. Baked a pecan pie and an apple pie for our church's Thanksgiving Praise and Pie Social. Now the three pies for Thanksgiving dinner.

I see how God has blessed me to be able to bless others with my pies. Just one of so many blessings to be able to offer Him thanks for today. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

GRILLIN' AND CHILLIN'

Last night's supper was delightful. In the afternoon I built a fire in our firepit, which gave me an opportunity to burn up a lot of the chewed up sticks Cass (our 9 month old purebred pain-in-the-butt) drags into the yard. I enjoyed the balmy fall afternoon, tending the fire, and doing a little raking. When the fire had burned down to a good base of coals I put chicken breasts with a bottle of barbeque sauce and a can of Coke together in my big cast iron dutch oven, which I then put on the fire. I sliced red potatoes and onions, wrapped them with some butter in tinfoil and put them on a rack over the fire. While supper cooked I watched the sun go down and the moon come up. It was a beautiful night. With the sun's departure, it turned chilly so the fire provided warmth and comfort.

Taylie and Tessa had surprised me with a raspberry Jello salad they'd made earlier while I was gone and it complemented the meal wonderfully. We dished up our plates by the fire and, though the menfolk fled indoors claiming it was too cold out, the girls and I ate by firelight and savored the fine cuisine and superb ambience of the setting. It doesn't get any better.

HELP! I NEED SOMEBODY!

I like to help others who are in need. It gives me a good feeling to know I've eased someone's burden and I am fulfilling the mandate set forth in Galations 6:2 where the Apostle Paul tells us, "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ". I may not always know what the need is but, if I am made aware, I am glad to be able to help in some way.

Some women have built-in radar for others in need and show up with just what you need, right when you need it. My friend, Cheri, is one of these women. God has gifted her with a helping spirit and the discernment to go with it. I am one of many who has been blessed by her help over the years.

The thing we need to remember is this verse in Galations implies a giving and receiving of help. For some of us -- me included, it is easier, or more comfortable, to give than to receive. If pride, embarrassment, or fear of looking like a failure keep us from asking for help we deprive others of the blessing that comes from helping. It is God's plan for others to bear my burdens with me and vice versa. We need to accept help as willingly as we offer it.

I am being blessed right now by being able to help Cheri go through the immense amount of belongings, left by her mother-in-law's passing away, and prepare for an estate sale. I am glad that Cheri has given me this opportunity to come alongside her and help bear her burden. Thank you, Cheri.

THE TOMB OF THE UNKNOWNS

The recent Veterans' Day observance brought to my email inbox an item of interest to me about the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, which led me to do further research of it on the Internet. I have never been to Washington, DC, and had the opportunity to visit this memorial myself and only knew what I learned about it in grade school history class. Which, apparently, wasn't much. Like most people, I knew the Tomb was located in Arlington National Cemetery and was guarded by a soldier. I knew the inscription on the white marble sarcophagus reads "HERE RESTS IN HONORED GLORY AN AMERICAN SOLDIER KNOWN BUT TO GOD". Some things I may have known and forgotten are that on March 3, 1921, Congress approved a resolution providing for the burial in Arlington National Cemetery on Armistice day 1921 of an unknown and unidentified soldier of World War I. On August 3, 1956, President Eisenhower signed a bill to select and pay tribute to the unknowns of World War II and Korea. The interment of these soldiers took place on May 30, 1958. President Reagan presided over the interment of the unknown soldier of Viet Nam on May 30, 1984. For some reason, unknown to me, the remains of this soldier were exhumed on May 14, 1998, and identified by means of DNA testing as those of Air Force 1st Lt. Michael J. Blassie. It was decided that the grave will remain empty. The crypts of the unknowns from WW II, Korea, and Viet Nam lie west of the main Tomb and are marked with white marble slabs flush with the plaza.

Even more interesting to me was what I learned about the soldiers who guard the Tomb. There is a Society of the Honor Guard of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and their motto is "Soldiers never die until they are forgotten. Tomb Guards never forget." Guards must commit two years of their life to guard the Tomb and live in a barracks under the Tomb. They cannot drink alcohol on or off duty for the rest of their lives. They cannot swear in public nor disgrace the uniform or the Tomb in any way. After two years, the guard is given a wreath pin that is worn on their lapel signifying that they served as a guard of the Tomb. The guard must obey these rules for the rest of their lives or give up the wreath pin. The first six months of duty a guard cannot talk to anyone nor watch TV. All off-duty time is spent studying the 175 notable people laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery. He must memorize who they are and where they are interred.

A guard spends five hours a day getting his uniforms ready for duty. There are no wrinkles, folds, or lint on the uniform. The shoes have extra thick soles to protect their feet from the heat and cold. There are metal heel plates on them that make the loud click as they come to a halt. His gloves are moistened to prevent him losing his grip on the rifle. He carries the rifle on the shoulder away from the Tomb. After he marches 21 steps across the path in front of the Tomb, he executes an about face and moves the rifle to the outside shoulder. There he hesitates for 21 seconds before beginning his return walk. 21 steps and 21 seconds allude to the twenty-one gun salute. The guards are changed every thirty minutes, twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year.

In 2003, as Hurricane Isabelle was approaching Washington, DC, the soldiers assigned the duty of guarding the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier were given permission to suspend the assignment because of the dangers from the hurricane. They respectfully declined the offer. Soaked to the skin, marching in the pelting rain of a tropical storm, they said that guarding the Tomb was not just an assignment; it was the highest honor that can be afforded to a serviceperson. The Tomb of the Unknowns has been patrolled continuously, 24/7, since 1930.

THANKS, DAD

Today is Veterans' Day and my thoughts turn to the many men I've known who have served, or are currently serving, our country in the Armed Services. Probably foremost in my mind is my dad who fought in the Korean War as a U.S. Marine. He served two tours of duty there, one 13 months and one seven months, with Reconnaissance Co., 1st Marine Division, Headquarters Battalion, as a scout; often the pointman. I cannot begin to imagine what kind of impact that kind of duty can have on one's psyche, particularly one so young. He was the age my son, Ramsey, is now -- eighteen. When Dad was discharged from the Marines after four years, twenty months of that spent in combat, he voluntarily checked himself into a Veterans' mental hospital in Detroit because he knew he was messed up. Diagnosed with "battle fatigue", today called "post traumatic stress disorder", he struggled to bring his mind, trained to fight and kill, back to civilian life. Add to that the fact that Korea was an "unpopular" war back home, not even being officially called a war, but a "police action", for a long time. Unlike Viet Nam veterans who came home and protested their treatment by their countrymen, Korean vets slunk quietly off to lick their wounds.

Dad stopped by yesterday to drop off some papers for me and I wished him "happy birthday" -- not his, which is April 2nd, but that of the United States Marine Corps on November 10th. He was pleased I remember this day is significant to him. Today I called him for Veterans' Day and thanked him for his service. As we talked and I asked him questions about his time in Korea, he summed it up, "War is war; it doesn't matter if you're there for a day or a year, it changes you forever." Well spoken, Dad.

KNIT TWO, PURL TWO

Knitting really is enjoying a resurgence in popularity these days. Seems like everyone is doing it, from movie stars to high school home ec. classes. I even heard of an all boys knitting club in one school and they were the big, beefy jock types -- knitting is suddenly "cool".

I grew up with a mother who was an accomplished knitter. She knit socks and mittens, hats and sweaters, baby clothes and Barbie clothes. One Christmas my sister, Tara, and I received knit striped skirts with matching vests --Yikes! I think we were thrilled with them back then.

I remember Mom teaching me to knit when I was around eight or nine but I lost interest fairly quickly. I crocheted for a while in my teens and early twenties; even have one fourth of an afghan to prove it. I took up knitting again around the age of thirty with the birth my second child, daughter Taylie. And now she is knitting with me, as well as her younger sister, Tessa. It pleases me that both girls are doing very well and it looks like they've acquired a life-long skill. Tess knits while standing or walking around, which is a new one to me as I see knitting as an opportunity to put my feet up. Taylie has joined with me and a few other women in knitting preemie hats for babies in the neonatal intensive care unit at Rush Memorial Hospital in Chicago where friend Mindy is a nurse.

It's gratifying to knit with a purpose beyond just creating pleasing items; there is a need for these baby hats. As we knit, the words of Psalm 139:13-14 come to mind: "For You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well." The babies we are knitting hats for are struggling with illness, deformity, effects of alcohol and substance abuse by their mother, handicap, underdeveloped organs, and fighting for their very lives. Not all make it. But God knows each one...their frame was not hidden from Him when they were made in the secret place; when they were woven together His eyes saw their unformed bodies, and all the days ordained for them were written in His Book before one of them came to be. (Ps.139) The Hand of the Master Knitter is upon each one of those precious little ones and I pray for the tiny little heads our hats will cover. I pray that the families of those babies, and all who come in contact with them, would be drawn to the Father by His grace, mercy, and healing.

FIRST STEPS

"Direct my steps by Your Word, and let no iniquity have dominion over me." Psalm 119:133

I am constantly trying to get myself and my life organized but I've never been able to achieve this desired state in all areas simultaneously. I would like have peace and order around me. So I focus on organizing my home, cleaning, decluttering. Of course, about the time my bedroom is beginning to shape up and no longer looking like a cross between a thrift shop and a breeding ground for dust bunnies, the basement has taken on the foreboding air of the nether regions. I set out to clean up and organize closets one at a time -- before I get finished with the last, the first is again vomiting its contents each time someone is brave enough to open it. We have too much stuff. So I go on a flinging spree, taking bags of our excess to the Thrift Shop, putting some things out by the road with a "FREE" sign affixed (it's amazing how fast stuff disappears this way!). At times I expend so much energy trying to order my home that I don't have anything left for other more important areas in my life.

I notice I am not the only person striving and stuggling in this area, either. People all around me say the same things about not having enough time for all they want and need to do; not having enough space for all their "stuff". Books upon books about organizing, decluttering, and simplifying our lives have been published. Magazines with titles like Real Simple clog our magazine racks. (Has anyone written Simplifying for Simpletons yet?) Websites abound addressing the same. Apparently, none of these have provided the ultimate solution to the chaos and clutter that seems to rule our lives these days.

God wrote a book that does provide us with a blueprint for ordering our lives because He desires this for us because He is a god of order and design, not chaos and confusion. This morning the Lord spoke to me during my quiet time through this simple verse in Psalm 119 -- "Direct my steps by Your Word, and let no iniquity have dominion over me." This speaks of ordering our steps according to God's Word to us. When the Bible is foundational in our lives, it guides how we think and act, it sets our priorities in all areas. Ordering my life by applying God's Word makes things go more smoothly, not just in my home but in my relationships, our homeschooling, our finances.

I realize ordering my life is another one of those ongoing, life-long processes that will never be fully completed until God calls me home. I need to ask Him to show me areas in my life that need change and to guide me in making those changes. And may the decisions I make bring glory and honor to Him.

BLESSINGS ALL MINE...

Another beautiful fall afternoon. Not the glorious golden of a few weeks ago -- all the leaves have left their summer perches and drifted to their winter beds. I spent a couple days raking our yard a week or so ago, as I figured all the leaves that were going to come down were down. No sooner did I finish that job than a tremendous wind kicked up and down came all the tenacious oak leaves that hang on for dear life, sometimes even all winter. Now it doesn't look like I did a thing out there. Oh, well...that's what spring raking is for.

I am torn between being outdoors today and tending to some tasks in the house. I'm big on compromise -- I have a good start on cleaning and re-arranging some in my bedroom, I've set two loaves of bread to rise in their pans, chicken breasts are simmering for tonight's dinner, and three loads of laundry are done all the way to being folded and put away. When the bread comes out of the oven I am going to take to the woods with my shotgun and dog and see if I can get the jump on a wiley grouse.

Mark ground up a bunch of venison burger this morning and now is out hunting this afternoon. Ramsey is in Rhinelander drilling with his National Guard unit, Taylie worked until 1:00 at the Tackle Box and now is finishing up some schoolwork so she can get back to her knitting. Tessa and Wylie are matching socks and then will escape outdoors for the last of the afternoon.

All day today I have had such an awareness of how God has blessed me. There was a time in my life when I despaired of ever being able to conceive a child...now I have four! The 9th verse of the 113th Psalm, a very special passage for me, comes to mind: "He settles the barren woman in her home as a happy mother of children. Praise the Lord." Amen

...NOT!

Cheri informed me that I have become a "slacker" where blogging is concerned. Somehow, that information gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling -- it's nice to be missed! And she's right, I have not blogged, but once, since retrieving our computer from the PC doc. Our computer resides in our basement and when I whined to Cheri that "it's chilly down there and my arthritis has flared up in my neck" she firmly encouraged me to put on wool socks, heat up my rice-bag, bring along a cup of tea, and light a couple candles. So, now that I've set the scene: me in wool socks with my rice-bag draped over my neck, sipping vinegar & honey tea, hunched over the keyboard; let me just say that I am suffering from a bad case of writer's block and call it quits for today. I'll try again tomorrow!

I'M BAAAAACK!

OK, so "a few days" turned into a week and a half! I've not blogged these past days as I was out of town for 3, didn't retrieve the computer from the computer doc for a couple more after that, and then had a very busy and full week of outdoor fall chores, indoor cleaning, baking and cooking. Just was too busy right away in the mornings and too exhausted in the evenings to even attempt blogging.

Our family is finally all back together in the nest, as Mark and Ramsey were gone for a week duck hunting in North Dakota. They left the day I was returning from the Women of Faith conference in St. Paul. God's mercy and grace abounded while we were apart -- He took care of us and we all returned home safely. The guys had a blast (literally and figuratively) on their hunting trip and came home with tales of the thousands of ducks and geese abounding in the area they were hunting. I came home lifted by the message at the conference of "Irrepressible Hope". I will write more about that in coming blogs but let it suffice for now to say that when our hope is placed in God it is irrepressible.

WE ARE EXPERIENCING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES...

This will be my last blog for a few days, as my computer seems to have been affected by Spyware or virus or some such thing. I am going to take it in to our internet provider/computer doc today to be cleaned up. I imagine it will be a couple/few days before it is ready to be picked up. But this is good timing as I am going out of town Friday morning with a group of women from church to attend the Women of Faith conference in St. Paul, MN. I will get back some time on Sunday afternoon. I have gone to this conference a couple times before and it is really what I need right now. Great speakers, music and worship with thousands of Christian women in a stadium...long lines for the restrooms...quality time with my sisters in Christ while driving and staying at the hotel...silliness until the middle of the night. I will come back simultaneously refreshed and exhausted...and with plenty to blog about! Tune in next week...

THIS OLD TENT

Saturday, our family attended the Barry McGuire concert held in a nearby town as a fund-raiser for a Christian school that just opened. Some of you may remember Barry in the 1960s as the lead singer for the New Christy Minstrels, as the lead male role in Broadway's original production of "Hair" and his number one hit "The Eve of Destruction". After increasing frustration and searching for the truth, Barry's life took a new turn when he met Jesus Christ in the early 70s and he began a career in Christian music and mission work, which he continues today.

Barry was a profound influence in my Christian walk when in 1975, as a 15 year old, I was given the album "To The Bride" which Barry recorded that year with two Christian groups of artists, The Second Chapter of Acts and A Band Called David. The Holy Spirit used the words of Barry's stories and songs on that album teach me and draw me closer to the Father. After almost 30 years, I was still able to sing those songs along with Barry at the concert Saturday night.

How cool it was to be able to share with my children this man and his ministry that had been so foundational in my life as a young believer! Barry has such an open and engaging way of presenting the Word of God; I could see my kids were impacted just as I had been. With laughter, honesty, music and humility, Barry McGuire tells his story, the story of how the Saviour reached him in the midst of a life of sin and death; and washed him clean by the blood of the Lamb.

I loved how he explained to the audience of moms, dads, grandparents, big kids, little kids and babies, that our bodies are just a temporary home for our spirits...like a tent. Barry said, "When you look in the mirror, what do you see? The front end of your tent!" Someday, when Jesus calls us home, we'll leave this earthly tent that sags and leaks and flaps in the wind; and be clothed with our heavenly dwelling...a perfect, glorious spiritual body! (2 Cor. 5:1-5) So until then, here I am in this old tent -- patching it up, sweeping it out and re-staking the ropes to hold it against the wind. But the really cool part is God's Spirit is camping with me!

WHAT DID I COME DOWN HERE FOR?

"For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace." 1Cor. 14:33

I hate when I go all the way downstairs and have no idea why I am there. Surely I went down there to do something or fetch something, but I can't remember what it was. I have to go back upstairs and retrace my steps through the house until it dawns on me what my errand was. Even though I can benefit from the exercise, I get frustrated with my confusion; I have a lot to get done in a day and this is not an efficient use of my time.

I have a lot on my mind...too much, it seems. I can't remember things, I am always scrambling at the last minute, my thinking process becomes murky and I don't always make the best decisions. When confusion reigns, peace suffers. The above verse tells me that this is not God's will for us. I have a pretty good idea who the author of disorder and strife is. I have heard it said that Satan does not always have to tempt us to cause us to sin; he can just keep us too busy. When I am stressed, overwhelmed and tired, it is much easier for me to dishonor God with my attitudes, words and actions.

My friend, Cheri, in dealing with her mother-in-law's estate, is overwhelmed with "stuff". Always one to strive for a simpler lifestyle, Cheri is really committed to downsizing and is encouraging the rest of us to do likewise. Less material clutter to deal with will certainly lessen disorder in our lives. I believe downsizing our schedule, calendar and commitments is also essential for peace. It is so easy to get over involved because there are so many good things to be involved in. I need to prayerfully discern which activities are God's will for me and my family, guarding against overload.

Making time to clear our minds is another guard against overload. I find when my day is crowded with responsibilities and activities my devotional time is the first thing to suffer. Though it is the desire of my heart to make quiet time with God a priority, the clammer of the day's schedule makes it a struggle. I want to honor God by having an orderly home. I need to daily pray for wisdom and discernment regarding what things are priorities and what things I need to eliminate. Taking a break to relax and refresh my mind in the midst of the busyness of my day is a priority. Having a clear, calm mind will help me bring order to chaos.

CHILD TRAINING 101

I should probably title this post Parent Training 101 since that is where child training actually starts...and I've yet to figure out when the course ends! I have been a parent for 18 years, 6 months and 8 days and I am still being trained and re-trained. So often, I feel like I am failing the class -- I know the material but choke on the test. Take the subject of consistency, for example. I know what I should do but have such a hard time following through. In my quiet time yesterday morning I was reading Proverbs 19. Verse 18 admonishes us: "Discipline your son, for in that there is hope; do not be a willing party to his death." (NIV) That really caught my attention and I spent some time looking at this verse in other translations and its cross references.

The second part of that verse, "...do not be a willing party to his death" sure makes an impact. Proverbs 13:24 tells us "He who spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is careful to discipline him." Proverbs 22:15 says, "Folly is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of discipline will drive it far from him." The "rod" may be literally an instrument used to administer a spanking or it may be a figure of speech for discipline of any kind. These verses tell me that discipline is rooted in love and parents are urged to apply the rod of punishment so that the child will not follow a path of destruction. If we neglect this responsibility we are, in effect, knowingly looking the other way while our child takes the wrong fork in the road which puts him in harm's way.

It is not easy to discipline our children -- I do not enjoy it. It is exhausting and draining. I give in too often to their whining and crying because it takes too much effort to be "the bad guy". When this happens, their behavior and character suffers for it. That same verse, Proverbs 19:18, in the King James Version puts it this way: "Chasten thy son while there is hope, and let not thy soul spare for his crying." When I stick to what I know is best for them, not taking the "easy" way out for me, the results are worth it.

Another subject in this Parent Training 101 course is my own track record of obedience. I need to examine how well I have obeyed the authorities in my life. Was I obedient to my parents as a child? Do I submit to my husband? Does God direct my paths? Do I confess my failings in these areas? The example of respect and obedience that I set for my children is observed by them all day long. Yikes. This is a huge responsibility and I stumble more often than not. But the best thing about stumbling is landing on my knees, which is the best place to be when I'm training my children.

BEDTIME BLESSINGS

Early this morning I was made sharply aware of a blessing I'd overlooked. We were awakened at 4:15 AM by the ringing of the phone which, at that hour, is seldom a harbinger of good news. It was our friend, Mike, on his way to work the early shift, calling to tell us that the sporting goods store, The Tackle Box where Ramsey is employed, had been smashed into with a car. Mike had already called the Sheriff's Department but didn't know how to get ahold of Karen, the owner, who was out of town at a buying show. Mark and Ramsey hurried to the store where they were able to give the responding officers information regarding the owner and whether it looked like anything was stolen (nothing was). There were 50 feet of skid marks and a lot of damage to the front of the building. Upon seeing a young girl still on the scene in her smashed-up car, Ramsey felt pretty sure the actual culprit was her boyfriend. At first, the girl tried to cover for him but, after some pressure from the police, she took them to where he boyfriend was and he confessed and was apprehended. Ramsey had a phone number to reach Karen; Mark called to tell her what had happened, that he and Ramsey were going to do what was needed to clean up the mess, board up the windows and get the store in working order.

At home the other kids and I prayed for Karen, asking that God would comfort her and protect her as she travels back home. We are thankful that it was not a robbery situation in which, if she had been home, she might possibly have been harmed.

It was as we prayed for the young people involved in the incident that I was made keenly aware of the overlooked blessing in our life. While this boy and girl were out doing whatever they were doing that led them to driving a car into the front of the store, my boys and girls were piled on our queen-size bed which their mother and father had retired to. They do this quite often; coming in to talk, laugh, lay by us and wrestle each other. Mark finds this rather annoying at times but, as I thought about my 18 year old son stretched across the end of our bed with his head pillowed on my hip (and his smelly socks in his 10 year old brother's face - one source of the wrestling), my 14 year old daughter curled up between her brothers and her 11 year old sister wedged between Mark and me, I wondered how many parents were blessed to be crammed into a not-big-enough bed with all their children (not just the little ones) wanting to share this time at the end of the day. When Mark can't take the ruckus and racket anymore we pray with them, send them off to their own beds and stretch out our cramped legs into the warm spots left from where they had lain. Something, that to some might seem strange or insignificant, to me is a gift of God's grace -- when darkness settles down over the day and the question is asked, "Parents, do you know where your children are?" I can answer, "Yes, I do -- they're on my bed!"

BIRTHDAY SONG

I haven't blogged the last few days because I really wasn't home long enough to do so. Wednesday was busy with appointments, errands and Family Dinner Nite at church. But Thursday and Friday were a special birthday gift from Mark. He took two days off work to do whatever I wanted to do...he couldn't have given me a better present. We headed up into the U.P. without any real destination in mind, just a general direction and spontaneity.

Driving west on U.S. 2, as far as the eye can see, the hills of the iron and copper range are ablaze with an intensity of color that takes your breath away. We got as far as Bessemer and decided to head north 15 miles to Black River Harbor on Lake Superior. Once there, we hiked up to Rainbow Falls through beautiful hemlock and yellow birch forest, sat on the bluff above the rushing gorge and watched a fly-fisherman further downstream. We followed a narrow foot path on a spine of a ridge down to the shore of Superior, where the clear water stroked the sand and stones. As I sat there, I reflected on 44 years...where did they go? I don't feel 44 in my head (my knees and hips are another story). God has been so good to me; brought me through so much and blessed me in spite of my being prone to wander. I sang praise to Him there on the shore of Gitchee Gumee, by the Shining Big Sea Water...

I will praise You, O Lord, with all my heart; I will tell of all Your wonders. I will be glad and rejoice in You; I will sing praise to Your Name, O Most High. (Ps. 9:1-2)

When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and the stars, which You have set in place, what is man that You are mindful of him, the son of man that You care for him...O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is Your Name in all the earth! (Ps. 9:3-4,9)

HOLD YOUR TONGUE

I am reading the Book of James in the New Testament during my
devotional time. I have read this book many times over the years and it never fails to speak directly to me. For being one of the shorter books in the New Testament, it sure packs a punch. One area in my life that I'm always getting "punched" about is controling my tongue. There are many passages of Scripture that speak about this which tells me that it is a serious matter. In the first chapter of James, verses 19-20 say, "My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry, for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires." And verse 26 of the same chapter says, "If anyone considers himself religious and yet does not keep a tight rein on his tongue, he deceives himself and his religion is worthless." James continues to address this issue in Chapter 3, comparing the effect of the tongue with the effect of a bit in a horse's mouth, the effect of a rudder on a ship and the effect of a small spark in a great forest: "Likewise the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell." Whew! The evil that comes out of our mouths is lying, boasting, slander, gossip, lewd and foul talk, cursing, mean and spiteful words, and deceitful, misleading talk. We all know what kind of an effect these things can have on a person. James goes on in verse 9 to say, "With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God's likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be."

Ephesians 4:29 tells us: "Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen." This is very convicting to me...and a very tall order, one I'm not very successful at achieving. I need help. Where do I begin? James, again, comes through in Chapter 1, verse 5: "If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." I ask God to help me and He directs me in His Word to examine myself (2 Cor. 13:5) and to "take every thought captive to make it obedient to Christ" (2 Cor. 10:5). "Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting" (Ps. 139:23-24). Scary prayer, but a necessary one..."For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks" (Mt. 12:34). I don't know about you, but I don't get the warm fuzzies when I examine the contents of my heart. Mercifully for me, when I ask God to examine my heart and reveal any offensiveness, He doesn't dump the whole load on me at once. He gently shows me one or two things at a time that I need to 'fess up to and I ask Him to forgive me and then help me to overcome that sin through the power of His Holy Spirit in me. "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9).

Today my prayer is the lyrics of the worship song we sang in church on Sunday:
Purify my heart; touch me with Your cleansing fire. Take me to the Cross, Your holiness is my desire. Breathe Your life in me; kindle a love that flows from Your throne. O purify my heart...purify my heart.
Purify my heart, Lord...and wash my mouth out in the process. Thank You, Father.

OCTOBER

October is a fickle month. Or maybe I should say "moody" ... bright, sunny and warm one day; dark, cloudy and cold the next. Sometimes it's downright schizophrenic...all four seasons in one day! This morning we woke to a covering of snow on the leaves and grass with the sun pushing away the clouds. Now, a couple hours later, the clouds are winning and have completely blanketed the sky in gray. It'll probably go back and forth like this all day.

The house is a little chilly; I've yet to fire up the furnace for the fall season, but today just might be the day. Have to see who wins the shoving match in the sky -- Clouds, it's furnace; sun, it's bake something in the oven and put on wool sox.

SIMPLE MINDED

That's me! Simple minded...sometimes a downright simpleton. Well, not really; but there are times I can be pretty dense! Spiritually speaking though, I am content to be simple minded. I have no problem accepting the Bible as the infallible Word of God, given to chosen men to be recorded as they were inspired by the Holy Spirit. Therefore, I do not feel the need to come up with "logical" explanations for where Cain got his wife and how people could have lived for more than 900 years (in light of the fact that when God created man He originally intended him to live forever, 900 years is a drop in the bucket!). Whether or not the Egyptian plagues were an intensification of natural events taking place in less than a year and coming at God's bidding and timing, they still were miraculous and glorified the one true God to a polytheistic culture. Pharoah, the Egyptians and all Israel saw the power of God. The Creation taking place in seven days by God's spoken Word, the Ark and the Flood, the parting of the Red Sea, Jonah surviving three days in the belly of a whale, David's defeat of Goliath; none of these are stumbling blocks for me. They are all examples of when a person answers God's call to trust Him and obey, God is faithful to respond in awesome and mighty ways.

It amazes me how readily the world accepts the works of ancient authors, like Homer, Sophocles, Aristotle, Plato and Caesar, etc., as authentic to the original manuscripts. How many manuscript copies of ancient works are available for study today? The 643 manuscript copies that exist of Homer's Iliad is the most for any ancient work. There are only about 10 manuscripts found of Caesar's War Commentaries, seven for Plato's Tetralogies, 20 for Livy's History of Rome. How about the New Testament? There are 5,309 known manuscripts in the original Greek language. There are also more than 19,000 ancient New Testament manuscripts in other languages such as Latin, Syriac and Armenian. For a total of 24,633. The time interval between the date of the original writing and the earliest known manuscript copies of the New Testament compared to other ancient works is astonishing. Caesar's War Commentaries was written about 50 B.C., but no copies are available for study which were written before the 9th century -- a gap of over 900 years. Most of the Greek writings have even greater gaps (1000-1500 years), the Latin writings somewhat less. The shortest span of any ancient work is that of Virgil, about 300 years between the original writing and the oldest known copy. The New Testament was written over a period of about 50 years, beginning around A.D. 47. Using the year A.D. 100 as the latest possible date for their completion, the John Rylands papyrus, a fragment containing a few verses of the Gospel of John, dates about A.D. 125 -- only some 35 years after the original writing by the apostle. The Bodmer and Chester Beatty papyri, a find consisting of a majority of the New Testament, dates from about A.D. 175-250. Major copies within 100-150 years of the originals. Bible scholar, Frederic Kenyon, in his commentary The Bible and Modern Scholarship, writes: "No other ancient book has anything like such early and plentiful testimony to its text, and no unbiased scholar would deny that the text that has come down to us is substantially sound."

All of this information just reaffirms my belief in the Bible as the literal Word of God but I am thankful I did not need to know all this before I believed. Trying to seek God through one's intellect just does not work. It's a matter of the heart. Jesus says, "I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the Kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." (Mark 10:15) The point He's making by this comparison is the openness and receptivity of children. The Kingdom of God must be received as a gift; it cannot be achieved by any of our efforts.

"For the message of the Cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written: 'I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.' Where is the wise man? Where is the scholar? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know Him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe. Jews demand miraculous signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength." (1 Corinthians 1:18-25)

So call me a simple-minded fool.

I am very blessed to have both of my grandmothers still living and a part of my life. Tomorrow my paternal grandmother will turn 98 years old. That just boggles my mind! To think of a lifetime that spans nearly 100 years...the people and events she has known; two World Wars, the Korean, Viet Nam, and Iraq wars, and conflicts in other places around the world like Panama, Somolia and Bosnia; eighteen presidential administrations; the advances and developments of science and medicine; a career as a school teacher; changes in our culture, society and values; and the ebb and flow of life. The losses she's suffered of friends and family; most heartbreaking, the death of a beloved daughter. She's obviously a fighter and a survivor, bouyed through life's ups and downs by her faith in God and her sense of humor. She still, after 98 years, delights in the change of seasons like it was the first time she experienced them. In spite of a loss of just about everything she had; from her loved ones, her home, her strength, her memory and her dignity, she says she's not ready to die. There are still things to be enjoyed, blessings to receive and things to be thankful for. She does wonder at times why she is still here; why God has not taken her home when all her friends and so many loved ones have been gone so long. Maybe it's because I am a slow learner and she has so much more to teach me.

HUNKER-DOWN MODE

It's the time of year my mother and I go into what we refer to as "hunkering-down". As the nights grow colder and the days crisp with falling leaves, we start dreaming of soups and stews, cranberry-apple cobbler and freshly baked bread. We pour over new recipes and pull out the old standard "More With Less" cookbook published by the Mennonites. There are green beans to be dilled, beets to be pickled, zucchini to be grated, apples to be sauced or sliced and frozen for winter pies. After the heat and busyness of summer, we are ready to fire up our ovens and fill the house with the smells of home cooking and baking.

We resolve anew to prepare meals that are wholesome and inexpensive, using what we have on hand and not running to the grocery store every day. We plan menus and bulk baking or cooking days around what is on sale. I am challenged to limit my grocery bill to $100 a week, which isn't just for food items but also soaps, toiletries, paper products, OTC medicines, dog and cat food, kitty litter and hamster food. Told you I was challenged! But I am enjoying finding creative ways to feed my family and stretch my grocery dollars. I was given a head of cabbage the other day and a carton of pre-washed, sliced fresh mushrooms on another day, both food items my family turns their noses up at. But they were FREE and I wasn't going to let them go to waste.
The "boiled dinner" I made in my crock pot with the cabbage, potatoes, onions, carrots and a smoked pork shank was hearty and the delicious smell lured even the most leery family members. Mark and a couple of the kids even had seconds. With the mushrooms I made stroganoff with sliced venison tenderloin. I sauteed those mushrooms with garlic and onion, added a little beef broth and the meat, simmered a while, then stirred in a pint of sour cream. Served over dumpling noodles, it was a big hit and not one person even commented on the mushrooms! Just goes to show it's all in their heads.

The other day I bought 6 big, beautiful green peppers, three for a dollar, at the bulk food store and I made stuffed peppers for the first time yesterday. They were wonderful, and complemented nicely by the fresh zucchini bread I made at the same time I was preparing the peppers and also canning Dilly Beans. Talk about a challenge! I don't know why I do that to myself -- try a new recipe, can beans and bake all at the same time! I need to pace myself and, above all, not forget to thank the Lord from whom all these good things come. I need to remember to trust in His provision and not rely only on my own resourcefulness.

"Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life" 1Timothy 6:17-19

MEMORIALS

This morning I attended the funeral of a dear lady I know from church. Edith was very sweet, gracious and encouraging. She always had a twinkle in her beautiful eyes and a smile playing about her lips. She was an example of godliness and grace by the manner in which she lived her life and and by the manner in which she went home to be with her Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. As I sat at the back of our church listening to her grandchildren eulogize her and talk about her legacy, I looked over to see my friends, Pat and Cheri, who are in the midst of grieving the loss of Pat's mother three days ago. I thought about things Cheri had shared with me about her mother-in-law and the legacy she left for her family.

It all caused me to consider what kind of legacy I will leave someday...what kind of legacy do I hope to leave? I have come to accept that I am a "work in progress" and will not be completed until that day when Jesus presents me to the Father. But in the meantime, I much to do to "get my house in order". Thankfully, I have top-notch help for this task because it is impossible for me to do it on my own.

RARE PLEASURES

Yesterday turned out to be a day of rare pleasures all wrapped in the golden hues of autumn. I had an unexpected two hour break when I took my two younger children, Tessa and Wylie, to the local library for a homeschool science program; I had planned to run errands while the kids were there and thought the program would last an hour. It actually was a two-hour program so I left my car parked at the library and "walked errands" in town, enjoying the beautiful weather and stopping to visit with friends at various places.

Back home, my husband, Mark, arrived shortly after me and asked me to go bird hunting with him. We went and bought my small game license and headed into the woods. What a gift to be walking down old logging roads with Mark and our 7 month old yellow lab, Cass...orange and yellow leaves sifting down, the smell of the sun-warmed earth, the eagerness of the young dog as she began to realize her purpose. At one point, Mark and Cass ventured off the road to work the woods and try to flush a bird out to me. Suddenly, 40 yards ahead of me, a big 10-point buck soundlessly leaped out of the woods and crossed the road into the thick tangle of pines on the other side. I just stood and marveled at how quietly such a big animal could move through the woods.

Later, on another road, we surprised a grouse feeding and I shot it, evening the score with Mark and Ramsey, who both already had bagged a bird this season. Further on we flushed two more but they had the element of surprise this time and lived to tell the tale.

We came home to the smell of supper in the crockpot, the whole family around the table, and a game of cribbage before bed, in which I soundly beat my husband. Like I said, it was a day of rare pleasures...

INDIAN SUMMER

We have been having two weeks of the most beautiful weather; each day more glorious than the last as the fall colors bloom against the backdrop of deep blue sky and dark pine green. Fall is my favorite season anyway, but when we get an Indian Summer like this one it is impossible to beat anywhere. The bugs are gone, the humidity is gone, the tourists are gone, the days are warm, the nights are crisp and cool.

Days like this make it difficult to get work done indoors -- the kids are doing their school work outside at the picnic table even as I write this. I have an overwhelming urge to take off into the big timber just to walk and soak up the sights, smells and sounds of this time of the year...

SEE YOU AT THE POLE

No, that's not a quote from Admiral Robert Peary or Santa Claus...it's what the third Wednesday morning in September every year is: "See You At The Pole Day" ...flagpole, that is. This is the day that Christian students, faculty and community members gather at 7:00 AM around the flag pole at their local schools to pray for the students and staff of that school and our country's leaders. This goes on all over the United States and a lot of other places in the world.

It was no easy feat getting myself and my kids up and out the door by 6:45 this morning. And it was pouring rain, to boot. The attendance was disappointingly small, and whether the rain or that fact that the school administrator would not allow posters announcing the event to be put up contributed to that, I don't know. On hand was my friend, Dennise, who is a youth leader in our church and lives in another community 20 miles away, a husband and wife who are retired teachers from this school, a young mom who graduated from the school, and my kids and me. The current second grade teacher joined our prayer circle for a few moments and then scurried off to get to her classroom. No other faculty or students from this school showed up.

But God promises that where two or more are gathered in His Name, He is there also. He also promises that when two or more believers agree and pray according to His will He will hear and answer. I believe God keeps His promises and I felt His Presence there with us as the rain came down and our prayers lifted up. I believe we prayed according to His will as we asked for protection for students and staff, for believers in the school to be bold in sharing their faith, for nonbelievers to be drawn to Him and come to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ, for His guiding hand to be with leaders of our government. I was very thankful and blessed to be able to stand there at the flagpole with my children and pray with a handful of other followers of Christ for this little school and community. And I am waiting expectantly for God's Spirit to move and bring revival there.

BACK TO THE FUTURE

We are back from a great weekend away...fine weather, good food, rest and relaxation. Unfortunately, the walleye warriors didn't have any luck in the fishing tournament. They marked a lot of fish on their graph but getting them to bite was the trick. That's why it's called "fishing" and not "catching"!

Back home, it's called "catching up"...laundry, school, chores, fall cleaning, mail and phone calls. Wouldn't you know, it's a beautiful day outside so we are having a hard time staying on task indoors. Maybe I'll put off the cleaning a closet and go tackle the outside of the windows...

FREE-TO-BE-ME CAMPING

We are getting ready for my favorite weekend. Every year husband, Mark, and son, Ramsey, fish the Lake Gogebic Walleye Tournament and our family camps in the Michigan State Park on the south shore of this big, beautiful, 15-mile long lake. It is my favorite time of the year to camp -- the bugs are gone, the fall colors are out, the campground is quiet since it is after Labor Day. Just a handful of retirees in their flashy motorhomes and us in our 1971 Holiday Rambler.

Mark and Ramsey spend their day battling wind and waves, wrassling down-riggers and 7'6" fishing rods. They come back to camp beat. I spend my day drinking coffee and reading in bed, taking walks with the kids, reading by the shore, doing crafts or playing games, reading in the shade or in the camper if it's rainy, feeding the ducks, or taking a nap. Sure, I fix a simple breakfast and lunch, put venison and vegetables in the crockpot for supper's stew and wash a few dishes, but I'm relaxing!

As enjoyable as extended-family and church-family activities are, I always feel a self-imposed strain. I feel like I'm being rude if I read, I feel like a slug if I sleep in past 7:00 and I feel like I need to be involved with the company I'm in. That's not relaxing for me.

So this is my time, once a year, to get away and unwind. No phone, no TV, no news. No one else's agenda or scheduled activities. When we pull out of the campground on Sunday afternoon, it's back to reality: homeschooling, housework, church activities and running the kids to their various lessons, jobs, youth groups and appointments. I need this time to be rested, refreshed and ready to tackle "the real world".

A GENTLE AND QUIET SPIRIT

I have been looking for a gentle and quiet spirit ever since I found out about it. In the New Testament book of 1 Peter 3:3-4 it says, "Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight." I don't believe this passage is saying it is wrong to style your hair or wear jewelry or nice clothes. But I do believe it is saying those things are not true beauty, they are only skin deep. It is what is in our hearts that makes us beautiful...or not.

I keep finding myself coming back to this verse over the years. A "gentle and quiet spirit" is hard to find and just when I think I've got it, it slips through my fingers again. Because it is "of great worth in God's sight", I want this quality very much, but it doesn't come naturally to me. My understanding of "gentle and quiet" is being calm and peaceful, not easily provoked or irritated. I respond to my circumstances and react to others, usually immediately in the heat of the moment. There have been a few times when I've kept my mouth shut but I didn't feel gentle and quiet on the inside. And it showed. So that's not a true gentle and quiet spirit.

I've come to the conclusion that this is not something I can create or produce on my own. I have the desire but not the ability to achieve the desired results. So where does that leave me? Right where I want to be -- in God's hands. I've had to give this desire to Him and ask that He would do the work in me of transforming my spirit. I trust that this is His good and perfect will for me.

SCHOOL DAZE

It's that time of year again when I must pull my mind back from summer pursuits and get on the school track. Homeshool, that is. This is a process that always begins with questioning myself: Why am I doing this? Wouldn't it be easier to put the kids on the bus and let the school district my taxes support do the job? Wouldn't it be nice to be home alone all day?...The house would stay clean for several hours at a time! I could take classes at the local college or get a job and supplement the family income. Am I able to do this important job well enough? Am I just trying to prove a point here?

Good questions. The answer to the first and most pertinent question is: I have been called by God to teach my children at home. I knew this even before I became a mother. God has given all parents the responsibility of educating their children and there are different options for accomplishing this: public school, private school, tutoring and homeschool. I want my children to have an education that honors God as our Creator and Sustainer. This requires a Bible-based, Christ-centered curriculum which the public school, by the law of the land, cannot provide. So scratch that option. I cannot afford the tuition at a private school or the fee for a tutor. And the private, parochial schools in our area are either Catholic or Lutheran and our family is of neither of those faith traditions. That leaves homeschooling.

Most days I feel very blessed to be able to teach my children at home. I won't lie...there have been days when I've wanted to flag down the yellow bus and say, "Take them! I've made a huge mistake!" But overall, I enjoy having my kids home with me...I tell them that if they weren't so annoying they could be my best friends! : ) Homeschooling has become a lifestyle and it allows us to be flexible -- if something's not working we try something else.

Sure, I think about taking college classes or getting a job for extra income, but what would be the price I'd pay? I actually don't want those things badly enough to find out. My time will come; this is not the season.

Am I able to do this important job well enough? On my own...no. With Jesus Christ in me and beside me to follow and lean on...yes. Not in my own ability and wisdom but in His. "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Ph. 4:13 It is only by His grace that Ramsey, our eldest child and first homeschool graduate, is testing at a 12th grade level in the High School Equivalancy Diploma program at the local college. I have so much to be thankful for!

Am I trying to prove a point? Yes: God's grace is sufficient for me and His mercies are new every morning. Oh, the things I am learning while I think I am teaching my children!

BLOGGING SCHMLOGGING

This is actually a test run -- I am having trouble posting a blog I wrote. So bear with me (grrr, like a bear)

REST STOP

It had been my plan to take a ride this morning with a group of friends up to Bond Falls, about 30 minutes north of here in the U.P. As usual, I started reconsidering going because I have so much to do here at home, Taylie wasn't feeling well, etc. I am very thankful to say that my heart over-ruled my common sense and I proceeded with my plans to go.

It was a lovely morning and Bond Falls is beautiful any time of the year. We spent the drive there, the walk down to the bottom of the Falls, and our picnic lunch laughing, talking and marveling at God's creation. Sue prayed before we ate; thanking Him for the day, the place, the friends, and the opportunity to be there in His Presence. She asked that, like the water we could hear rushing over the rocks, His Spirit would wash over us; refreshing and renewing us.

I had come so close to cancelling out on this morning because I'm overwhelmed with all my responsibilities at home. I forget that God calls us to rest. If I hadn't gone, I might have gotten some things done at home but I would still be overwhelmed because it is never-ending. Instead, I came home with a refreshed and renewed spirit because I entered God's "rest stop" along the way.

"Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." Matthew 10:28

TO BLOG OR NOT TO BLOG

...That is the question! Prior to my introduction to "blogging" by my friend, Cheri, I figured the term was an expression of extreme disgust. Hopefully, that won't be the reaction evoked herewith. Anyway, I have enjoyed reading Cheri's blogs and thought it might be an easy way to share thoughts and happenings in my day with a possibly interested few. It probably won't be a daily offering because of time constraints and, frankly, my daily life doesn't provide a lot of fodder for interesting reading! Any feed back I get from those of you interested enough (or with nothing better to do) will certainly help stimulate the flow of my thought and writing processes. You will notice at the bottom of my blog there is a button to click on to comment on each particular entry.


That said, I will wrap this up for today as I've already spent a good portion of the morning setting this whole thing up. I must get Taylie to work, finish digging up my potato patch (not a good year), resume preparations for the start of the school year, and tackle another corner in the basement cleaning project. Sounds exciting? Stay tuned...