Is Satan Stealing Our Families?

by Brie Gowan
http://briegowen.com/2017/07/30/is-satan-stealing-our-families/
Used by permission
July 30, 2017 by brieann.rn@gmail.com

This past year I read a book with my daughter called Little House in the Big Woods. You may be familiar with it. It’s the first book written by Laura Ingalls Wilder, and it began the popular Little House on the Prairie series. I don’t recall reading it before, and as I read it to my five year old, I think I enjoyed it even more than she did. Something about the way the family lived, it intrigued me. I love my internet tremendously, but the simplicity and closeness this family shared sounded really wonderful to me. The idea of working together for each other drew me into their little world. Many times as I read the pages aloud I yearned for such a time as the ones described.
I look around today and I wonder if we wouldn’t be better taking a step back in time where we could focus more on important matters, and less on trivial ones. I see the things around me that cause so much unneeded stress, and I truly believe that the principalities and powers of darkness wish to destroy what God has created. God favors families. He favors love, time together, and focus on cultivating those relationships. What I see today is in direct opposition of that, yet those things have developed slowly over time, so much so that we don’t even notice them deteriorating the fabric of family.
Our pre-teens and teenagers are so absorbed in their Snapchat and Instagram that they can’t even come up for air. Not that we notice. We’re buried in our Facebook newsfeed or hottest new game app.
The normalcy of public school education with its ever increasing curriculum demands are swallowed like good medicine. The school year gets longer, testing increases, and hours of homework creep into the family time. So children that already spend 8-9 hours away from home are spending their evening hours doing more projects, reports, and extra credit assignments.
Mom and dad are too exhausted to help much. They’re tired because they’re putting in more hours. Dual working parents are the majority. And while the cost of living has definitely increased over time, I wonder how much of our “necessities” are truly that? We work more to be able to buy more, yet we hardly have time to enjoy all our purchases. We save all year long for a week long vacation that leaves us exhausted and in need of a day off from our off days.
A lot of our hard-earned money is spent on activities. So. Many. Activities. We spend more time driving to activities, purchasing gear, costumes, and accessories for our activities, or working on our off days to raise funds for our activities. Activities where we watch other people teach, coach, and mentor our children. Is this the time together we’re craving? Makes you think.

Time together doesn’t cost a dime

If you had to sit down and add up how much quality time you spend alone with your spouse, what would it be? What about your children? And not time doing and going. Just time. Is it less time than you spend on your weekly commute to work?
It makes you wonder if divorce is more prominent today because it’s become socially more acceptable, or could it be because we’re spending less time enjoying the company of our spouse? Would children get in less trouble if they had a present parent/parents available to guide them? They say it takes a village to raise a child, but I’m wondering if we’ve taken that too far. Now we just want the village to take care of them. And then when our children fall down and fail we can have teachers, coaches, and the church to blame for their demise.
This is hard stuff to think about. It’s taking everything we’ve called normal over the past few decades or more and realizing that it’s actually destroying the family unit. Our kids are playing ball 3-5 times a week until 10pm, and the parents are working 60 hours a week to keep designer duds on the kiddos lest they get bullied for wearing WalMart brand clothing. Everyone has a TV in their room, a cell phone in their pocket, and a brand new car in the drive-way yet none of that will go to Heaven with us. We’re working very hard providing material possessions for our children, when in all reality we should be on our knees with them leading them to a closer walk with Jesus. Eternal life is what we should want for our kids, not the best education money can buy. And while I’m all for giving them a bright future, I don’t want to give them the world if it forfeits their soul. When my grown children look back on life I want them to have memories of time well spent rather than spending all the time. I gotta work on this! I don’t have it all figured out either, but I’d like to think my eyes are open enough to see that Satan wishes to destroy us.
Satan wants us tired, worn thin, and stressed. He wants us in debt up to our eyeballs, and our health failing because we can’t sleep enough, eat right, or handle our stress effectively. He wants husbands and wives fighting over finances, disrespectful teens who learned how to treat their parents based off Nickelodeon sitcoms, and thousands of young children sexually abused by the adults we’re so quick to place our trust in. He wants us busy, but not productive. He wants our plates full, but our tank empty. He wants us looking to society for what’s best for our families, not God’s word as a lamp to our feet. He wants the family unit ripped apart, and many times I look around and see us letting him. We’re not even trying to take a stand.
I’d like to believe that it’s not too late. We can still fight to save our families. Perhaps it all comes down to stepping out in wisdom, courage, and truth for our family. In a world that’s so busy Keeping Up With the Kardashians, maybe it’s time to be a Little House on the Prairie. What do you think?

*Of note, this isn’t meant to offend anyone. It’s just meant to trigger thinking about it. I’m certainly a work in progress.

Meet Brie

Brie is a thirty-something (sliding ever closer to forty-something) wife and mother. When she's not loving on her hubby, bouncing a happy toddler on her hip, chasing her preschooler, or teaching her six year old at the kitchen table, she enjoys cooking, reading, and writing down her thoughts to share with others. But honestly she loves nothing more than watching a great movie, or a hot bath, alone if the children allow. Which never happens.
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It Happened Here: A Small Halt

by Sheila Petre
Used by permission

                My friend Abigail was running across her lawn sometime last year and something happened to her foot. The doctors are still unsure of a diagnosis, and she lives with pain and an inability to walk on her own two feet comfortably.

                Abigail is cheery and friendly, and has a great sense of humor. When I met her a few weeks ago at the parent-teacher meeting, I talked with her a while. Was she still suffering from that foot? She was—she had it propped on a wheeled knee-rest.

“The lengths,” I said, “to which some people will go to get out of gardening.”

                She laughed, obediently, but later I regretted my words. I am not a born gardener, but I needn’t assume everyone shares my reluctance in the field. It’s an attitude problem for me, I fear. When writing or editing, I have had moments of needing to force myself to stay in my chair until I am finished. Why can’t I be so disciplined about Gardening? With its relentless do-it-today-or-regret-it-all-winter, and even-if-you-work-your-hardest, you’ll-never-be-finished-in-August, and are-you-sure-you-should-read-while-you-feed-the-baby-since-that-means-it-takes-longer-to-feed-the-baby, gardening, if I looked at it as I do writing—a privilege—could be more manageable.

                Strawberries are in, after all—a little early this year. Raspberries swell in the other garden—and cry for weeding, mulching, and tying up. We picked strawberries Friday evening, and the children helped. They helped cap some, too. I chocolate-covered a few quarts, and made another few into strawberry Danish for Sunday lunch, and took a few in disposable containers to neighbors. Ah, that’s the most fun of gardening—giving away the excess. Mrs. Paylor, a small beautiful white-haired lady smelling of Avon, thanked me most profusely, and said she would make me a shortcake—would I like a shortcake? She uses her grandmother’s recipe.

                How could I refuse?

                Saturday was comfortably busy, with cleaning up the house, getting clothes ready for Sunday, capping berries, bathing children and keeping children happy. And then there was Mrs. Paylor at the door with the shortcake in a covered cake pan, strawberries decking the top in a bed of whiteness. “The recipe calls for meringue,” she said, lowering her voice, eyes twinkling in a shared-secret camaraderie. “But I cheat. I just use”—almost whispering—“Dream Whip.” I gave her another portion of strawberries, and was still smiling when I closed the door on the aura of Avon.

                We had the shortcake for supper and it was delicious. Fresh food, for free—can’t I love summer’s busyness, too?

   Now I have another dish to return. Earlier in the day, I had eyed the stack of empty pans and bowls on the bookshelf in the front room. We had to return these dishes, which church people had brought, full of food, after Stephen was born.

                I don’t like to return empty dishes. I schemed about what I could put in them. Roses, that’s what. At a writer’s meeting in October, every plate had a carnation beside it, in a little plastic bud vase with a rubbery top which kept the water in. I saved the vases to use—and this would be perfect. I could put a single rose into every stack of dishes, and Rachael could solicit the help of one of her friends to deliver the dishes back to the owners on Sunday morning.

                I sent the children to bedward, fed Stephen and laid him on the bed. I had time, I thought, to slip outside before dark and pick those roses. I filled a pitcher with water and grabbed the shears.

                I would wear my black clogs—but I could only find one of them. I went after my boots. They were inside the kitchen door, where I had not left them; we have trouble with Borrowers around here. I love my boots. They are fuzzy inside, and have a wee wedge-heel. I’m too tall to wear much of a heel, usually, but I like to wear heels. Wearing these boots makes me feel as though I can conquer anything. Michael looks at them skeptically, saying someday I’m going to hurt my ankle wearing them—the sole is too narrow.

                Michael was in the garden, planting beans. I waved. Navigating the clutter of bikes and wagons on the driveway, I moved onto the lawn, almost marching, very happy. I love the feel of those boots!

Halfway across the lawn, my narrow heel came down swiftly, sideways on a knot of ground, my ankle turned under my weight, I heard—or merely felt—the small snap of a sudden yielding, and I pitched headlong onto the grass.                

This was what upset me first: I spilled all the water. The pitcher flew from my hand as I fell and there went all that water, wasted.

This was what upset me second: Michael did not see me fall. I hoped he had, that he would cry out to ask if I was okay, and come quickly to the rescue, and make consoling sounds upon arrival. I laid there face down only a moment, and then rolled onto my back and looked in his direction. He was still planting beans. I watched him coming down the row toward me. Anytime now, he would look in his wife’s direction, casually, a hint of admiration in his eyes as he watched her picking roses in the cool of the evening.

Not once. He kept dropping the seeds in the furrow, nearer and nearer, not looking over once. I sat up.

Get over the dramatics, I told myself. Stand. Pick up the pitcher of water, and fill it at the pump—you won’t even have to go into the house for more. You can tell him the story later; nothing heroic about it.

Except that when I moved my foot, I drew in a deep breath and held it, until the pain subsided. Surely I could get up—but I couldn’t. Michael reached the end of the row, dropping beans, and turned to go back, dropping them in, dropping them in. I watched him casually, a hint of admiration in my eyes.

And I thought about what I had said to Abigail, with even more regret.

“Hey!” I hollered. He didn’t hear me. I hated to call him from his work as night fell, but the children were alone in the house, and now it was getting colder, sitting on the ground. I waited till he finished the row, and then I hollered again. This time he heard me, and came.

With his help, I stood, and discovered that if I put my foot down just right, it didn’t hurt at all. But if I tipped it the least bit outward, pain screamed from my ankle. He carried the empty pitcher and I took the shears. I held his arm. I limped—I could not help it. And limping is not fun. I like attention when I hurt, but not constant attention. Limping, when I do it, feels affected; it draws a constant attention to myself that I detest. (There’s a lot to be said for limping; I haven’t the time or energy to explore it now. But believe me, I thought about many aspects this weekend.)

I woke at three Sunday morning to feed Stephen, and could not go back to sleep for an hour. What if my ankle was broken and I had to wear a cast all summer? I wouldn’t be able to get out of gardening—I would garden anyway; Michael would expect me to if I could at all manage—and being unable to do it would be the incentive I needed to want to do it. What would my family eat this winter if I didn’t garden? Would I want them eating food others worked for while I sat in my chair? No. This would complicate things. What would I do? Why hadn’t I been thankful for my good health? For being able to walk freely, confidently, in boots or out of boots?  

By daybreak Sunday, my ankle was swollen—not much, but a little—and hurt, especially after use. Mostly, I was wary of carrying Stephen while I walked, lest my foot let me down, as sometimes happened. Michael took all the children except Stephen and Laurel to church, and Rachael delivered the dishes empty of all but good intentions and little notes that said “Esther,” “Luella,” “Bethany,” “Jeanine,” and “Rosalie.” Laurel and I played half a game of Scrabble; I put ice on my foot for a while in the afternoon, and by evening, felt much better.

As of Monday morning, I have decided my ankle didn’t break; I only sprained it. There is still some swelling, and a bit of tenderness, but I have a little more range of movement in my foot, allowing me to walk more easily, and even go down the stairs one foot down and then the next foot further down, instead of with the toddler method of one foot, stop, bring next foot to same level.

I see I will not, after all, be able to get out of gardening this summer. Just my luck, to be laid up over the weekend and feeling better by Monday, I would have thought last week—but this week, after yesterday’s pain and that (abominable) limping, I am absurdly grateful.

Lord willing, I get to garden this summer! I was out with Michael and my sister-in-law, picking berries at dawn this morning. Now I have the 16-18 quarts to cap. I might pray while I do it. My prayers will be thankful ones—I have work to do, and the health to do it.

Remind me of this in August.

Sheila J Petre

Our May: watching tadpoles and water plants swell in a gallon jar on the kitchen counter; treasuring the fragile moments of Stephen’s newbornness; eating the last of the peas…green beans…and raspberries in the freezer; counting the days till summer vacation and fresh peas…raspberrries…and green beans; flinging open the windows to Spring

25 Good Guidelines for the Home

Revised from a much shorter typewritten list I found in my files, from an unknown source.  Quite a few additional guidelines were added as well.

We honor and obey the Lord Jesus Christ.
We love, honor and pray for one another.
We put the interests of others ahead of our own.
We speak quietly and  respectfully with one another.
We are kind and considerate to each family member.
We strive to be truthful in everything.
We look for ways to help others without being asked.
We don't hurt others with unkind words or actions.
When someone needs correction, we correct him in love.
When someone is sorry, we forgive him.
When someone is sad, we encourage and comfort him.
When someone is happy, we rejoice with him.
When we have something nice to share, we share it.
When we have work to do, we do it without complaining.
We take good care of everything God has given us.
We do not create unnecessary work for others.
When we open something, we close it.
When we take something out, we put it back.
When we make a mess, we clean it up.
When we turn something on, we turn it off.
When we don't know what to do, we ask.
We encourage each other to live to their fullest potential.
When we leave the house, we let other family members know.
When we go out, we remember from whence we came.
Our family is a team and we stick up for each other.

5 Prayers for My Husband

www.familylife.com
Used by permission

Camping with the Family - An Endless Adventure

Used with Permission by Barbara Baranowski Children love adventure.  One of our grandsons is sixteen, and not only does he remember the camping adventures we have taken him on, but he is eager for new ones.  We enjoyed camping with our daughters when they were growing up, and now they camp with their families.  Camping provides adventure with many possibilities.  But the path to a successful camping experience starts long before the trip begins. We have planned many camping trips. Here are a few tips that we have found useful for the  preparation and enjoyment of camping with the family. 1.    Plan with all ages in mind.  If the children are old enough, allow them to participate in the planning meal, supplies, and activities. Discuss with them the activities that are provided at the campground. For example, campgrounds may have nature talks and hikes, fishing, swimming, boating, Jr. Ranger activities (to earn a badge), nature exhibits, horseback riding, and more. Explore first what the campground has, then present those activities to the children, allowing them to discuss what they would enjoy. 2.    Research the camping area.  If possible, show pictures of what a campsite or camping area might look like. Discuss the animals that may be enjoying that campground as well, and for the younger children pictures of animals are a great visual.  There are plenty of wildlife books in bookstores. Know about the environment where you will be camping. 3.    Discuss equipment that campers use. Go online for lists that can be duplicated, then take the children to a store that sells camping equipment, like Dick's or Sportsman's Warehouse, and let them help pick out the equipment. If possible, have a yard campout using the equipment before actually going on the trip.  Practice cooking and setting up a tent.  Walk around with the hiking backpack filled with water bottles, rain gear, and snacks. Be totally familiar with your supplies before you take them to an unfamiliar place.  This will help you avoid a difficult situation or even an emergency. 4.    Practice camper activities.  Take walks around your neighborhood, have nature talks, make a nature collage with leaves, feathers, rocks, etc., pick camper friendly recipes to try at home first, shop for food, and search the bookstores for children's books about the beach, mountains, parks - the place where the family will camp. 5.    Practice safe camping and hiking strategies. Take extra supplies (check for water availability).  Take plenty of warm clothing and rain gear. Even in the summer, the area may be cool at night.  Take plenty of bug spray, suntan lotion, and first aid supplies.  Make sure to have durable, sturdy hiking clothes and shoes.  For babies, make sure to have plenty of jarred baby food, cereal, bottled water, and formula. Bring milk that doesn't have to be refrigerated. When hiking, no matter the length of the hike, take plenty of water.  We have seen parents with young families carrying little or no water. Plan for protein and other snacks - especially for hiking. Discuss activity alternatives for rainy days.  Have plenty of flashlights, camping lanterns, and glow sticks. 6.    Set boundaries for the campers.  Children are born curious and inquisitive. Make sure that boundaries around the camping area/activities have been impressed upon them.  Discuss security issues - staying near parents and not talking to strangers. Make sure they are always in range of communication and eyesight. 7.    Enjoy the fun by bringing along activities the children will love.  Especially when our children were younger, we provided a "fun tent," an extra canopy with sides that could be used for craft and coloring activities.  They always enjoyed going into the fun tent and being creative.  This tent worked well every day, but especially on rainy days. Also, bring along a few riding toys.  Most campgrounds have paved roads leading to the campsites. 8.    Finally, pack your resilience, understanding, and patience. There may be unexpected situations arise with children, such as the need for reassurance in a new place. However, if children see you enjoying the experience, they will feel comforted and enthusiastic. Enjoy all that God has created and make memories no matter where you camp with your family. Camping indeed can be an endless adventure. Barbara Baranowski is a published writer and inspirational speaker devoted to family, educational, and spiritual issues.  She lives with her husband John in Roanoke, Virginia, and is a retired middle school teacher.

Just Call Her Mom

by Lois Breneman
 
If you are feeling tired and overwhelmed as a mother these days, this might make you feel like your burden in reality is not so heavy afterall, and help you to be thankful for the pampered life you live.

I used to save newspaper articles, and as I was cleaning out files recently, I came across this one, dated June 10, 1991. 

                                     "Just Call Her Mom"

Leontina Espinoza, 61, considered the world's most prolific mother, is expecting her 65th child, the Chilean government said Friday.  Espinoza shown here with one of her daughters in a 1988 file photo, shares a shack with her husband in an agricultural area 90 miles south of the country's capital of Santiago.

Lessons Learned in a Conflict Zone

Used with Permission by Angela Flowers

Last summer our family lived through another war, and it was one of the hardest seasons of my life. For over a month, there were missile attacks launched against most of the country with violence and terrorism in the city we live in. Practically speaking, it meant trips to the bomb shelter with our kids, avoiding certain parts of the city, and one scary time on the highway with my family when a rocket exploded in the air overhead. When people realize where we live, inevitably the comment will come up: "I don't know how you did it." Others ask, "How did you live through the war?" Some beloved counselors pressed us more for answers, and when my husband and I discussed it further, we came up with several things that helped.

I would like to share them with you, because even though you may not be going through a physical war, we are all still fighting in a battle that is not against flesh and blood. These were not things that we planned beforehand or consciously thought about. However, in looking back, they really helped.

1. Continue with a "normal" life and ministry as much as possible. We decided that if we were going to stay, we should continue to minister. That meant traveling to our congregation from a city with a couple of rocket attacks a week to a city with several per day. It helped to continue in our ministries as much as possible, and we were continually reminded of the bigger picture and why God had called us to this place.  Also, in times like these you grow very close to your national friends and partners.  
2. Do a project as a family. We planted a garden. It was really a family undertaking from buying the seeds in the store to digging up the soil to plant. It gave us such joy to teach our kids about gardening and how things grow. Every day we would water and watch things begin to sprout. It was a small thing, but it went a long way. It was fun for the kids to compare the sizes of the watermelons every day.    
3. Teach yourself a new skill.  My husband is an avid outdoorsman and has always wanted to learn to fly fish. He ordered a fly rod, watched videos online, and went to the neighborhood park to practice his casting. I am a musician and have always wanted to learn guitar. We took advantage of a ceasefire to travel to a mall, where I bought a cheap instrument so I could teach myself how to play.     
4. Take a Sabbath and give yourself some extra margin. Not long before the war began, my husband and I decided to start taking a Sabbath day off. During the conflict, we took more down time than normal. We guarded our one day off per week and took extra time to play with the kids, get wet in the kiddie pool on our terrace, watch more movies, and be silly. We were very intentional that summer about our margin time and gave each other permission to take some extra time to do fun things.  
5. Set boundaries for yourself. For my mental health, I had to set boundaries. I could not go on websites and read the news because it was too distressing. I relied on my husband to tell me things that were pertinent. Instead, I had to focus on things that were in my sphere of influence like my house, children, spouse, and different ministry opportunities.  
6. Recognize that even though you are healthy and political situations can improve, there are still effects on your mental, emotional, and spiritual state.   Although my family and I are physically in good shape, we are not completely unscathed from all we have been through.   When there is a siren drill, I hate that my small children run and hide under a desk. It is important to recognize these effects in ourselves and in our children and counter negative attitudes with appropriate Scriptural responses.  I continually take a personal audit of where I am, spiritually and mentally. What this looks like for me is a weekly meeting with just myself. I look over my calendar for the coming week, plan out what is required of me, ask myself questions, schedule intentional down time, and then give myself and family lots of grace.  
7. Most importantly, trust God for the peace that passes understanding and rely on Him. There were times of crisis, and the only thing I could do was recite scripture. When sirens went off and we had to make decisions, I always had a sense of peace that could only have come from God. We leaned on God and truly came to understand that Jesus is our daily bread. He is enough. We serve an amazing God, and sometimes life is really hard. But when life is hard, he is still good. Always.

Our city and country are once again going through some very turbulent times, and I am constantly reminded of the goodness of God. I take it one day at a time, sometimes one hour at a time, and rely on His grace and sustainment for me and my family.  Despite the hardships, we acknowledge that there is One who is bigger than all of this. And His faithfulness is great indeed.

Angela lives in the Middle East with her husband and two children. They have served overseas in ministry for three years. Angela teaches music at two different schools and leads worship at their congregation. She enjoys reading, writing, making music and spending time with friends.

Simplicity in Happiness

by Promise Cook ~ Used by permission

When my husband, Jeremy, was little he collected rocks...so do both of our girls, Annabelle (10) and Charlotte (4).  I have jars full of rocks!  A lot of the gravel from my driveway is also in jars in my house because it was a "really pretty rock!"  The other day Jeremy brought home this rock from work and gave it to me.  It made my day!  Life isn't as complicated as we make it...it's really very simple to be happy where you are with what you have and to share your joy with others, even if it's as simple as a heart-shaped rock.

Reflections of a Preacher’s Wife: Post-it Note #158

by Connie Post
July 19, 2015
http://graceintherealworld.com/ - Used by permission

Today is my 18^th wedding anniversary. My husband was already a preacher when I married him and so my life has been on display before a congregation of people since before I said “I do”. All these years later we have ministered in many settings to multiple congregations and have been blessed with 5 great kids.

We have been supported and loved and prayed for by the people of our congregations. They have celebrated our victories and walked with us through some dark and challenging days. Those folks who have made a difference for us are the ones that know the following things:

1. The preacher’s family is a real family. They don’t have it all together. They are sinners just like the rest of the world and can’t be held up on a pedestal or unrealistic standard. They blow it sometimes. They lose it with their kids. They are learning as they go, just like you are. Sometimes their house is a wreck. Sometimes they need a break or a vacation or time away. They don’t know the answers to every question. They need your prayers for wisdom.
2. The preacher’s kids are kids. They act like kids. They might run at church if Mom isn’t watching. They don’t come into the world knowing how to act. And when they are at church their dad is working so mom is a “single-mom” on Sunday mornings. If you talk to her at church expect her to be looking over your shoulder while listening so that she can keep her eyes on her kids. Because EVERY unsupervised kid wants to jump on the stage or swing from a chandelier whether they are related to the preacher or not. They need your prayers to balance it all.
3. Preacher’s kids give up their dad a lot. They share him with everyone. Mom is often the one teaching them to ride bikes and taking them to recitals and soccer games because Dad is ministering to the church family. So it’s likely they didn’t see dad all day Saturday and greeting time on Sunday is the first time they’ve seen him in a while. If they go hug their dad on Sunday morning, it’s because they need too and not because they are trying to interrupt “real ministry” to the church. Preacher’s come and go, but he’s the only Dad they have. The preacher’s family doesn’t get a quiet holiday at home. Dad is planning an event for the church family to come to.  So if the preacher’s kids seem tired, clingy or out of sorts, they need to be given a little slack. They need your prayers for strength.
4. The preacher’s family is under attack. Satan loves to trample on the preacher’s family. He comes after their marriage, their kids individually, and their family unit. He is constantly trying to distract them and cause disunity. And often Saturday night or Sunday morning is when he takes his best shots. So maybe the kids aren’t all dressed to the nines and their hair isn’t smooth as glass on Sunday morning. Maybe mom is looking a little frazzled. She got those kids dressed by herself and out the door and maybe what she’s wearing at the moment is the best she could do on this particular morning because she was so busy fighting the devil to even get there. Judgment never helps the preacher’s family. It only adds to Satan’s schemes. They need your prayers for protection.
5. The preacher may be a godly man, but he’s still a man. You can’t expect more of him than he can give. And the preacher’s wife may be a godly woman but she’s just a woman with limitations too.  Sometimes she has to say “no” to the lists of tasks and responsibilities that others want from her. Her number one priority is her family. She can’t apologize or feel guilty for that. It’s hard to make choices like this, because nobody want to say  “no” to people they are called to minister to and yet don’t want to short change their family.  It’s a constant tightrope.  They need your prayers for stamina.
6. The preacher’s family answers to God for their actions, their parenting, and their ministry. They shouldn’t be expected to act according to the standards of individuals in the church. They can’t parent their kids according to the way others parent. They should be allowed to minister according to their spiritual gifts and not according to the list of expectations of what a preacher of preacher’s wife or preacher’s kids should do, look like or be like. They need your prayers for courage.
7. When they go through a tough time, they need your support. It’s hard to struggle publicly. It’s hard to live in a “fish bowl” for everyone to watch. They need your love and they need your prayers.

A Voice for Others

Used with permission by Barbara Baranowski I looked at my dad’s 93-year-old body in the hospital bed, weakened suddenly by the stress of broken hip surgery.  He was understandably tired, frail and confused.  His normally clear mind searched my face through questioning eyes, looking for answers to what his life would be like in the days to come.  I imagined the next weeks and months—rounds of doctors and nurses visits, technician tests, weeks of rehabilitation, and the struggle for restoration.  How could I convey to the caregivers and professionals what my father had been like just a day before the fall—vibrant for his age, committed to sharing his faith in Christ wherever he could, mentoring those younger, and visiting nursing homes. He was active in church and an inspiration to others. Knowing that medical professionals are extremely overworked with patient loads that leave little time, how could I be a voice and personalize my dad to them?  I whispered a prayer, “How, Lord, can I make him more than a body to care for?”  As God spoke to my heart, I put the following answers into practice   Share interesting facts about your friend or family member, as time and conditions permit. This allows the caregiver to get beyond the illness or injury to the heart of the individual.Seniors especially have a rich past filled with a lifetime of experiences that their frail bodies may belie.Often they too have touched others with healing words. Share faith from the heart of the patient—thoughts either spoken yourself or by encouraging him/her to do so.My father used his dark days of physical difficulty to share the light of Jesus with those attending him.Without disturbing their very important work, he would slip them a word of encouragement or give them a small New Testament or his published inspirational book.   Share the patient’s appreciation with the caregivers.Often they are not able to do so, but we as advocates can.This may lift the day of a specialist in need of comforting and appreciative words.   An advocate is a helper, a voice, and an interceder for another.  An advocate provides the healing touch of words for the patient and thoughtful help for the professional. The Bible reminds us in Philippians 2:3-4, “in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.”  My dad could not always share his story, but because I was his advocate, caregivers knew that this was a beloved and special man— one whom they would be honored to call their friend if they had met him under different circumstances.  Why not be a healing voice for someone you love? Barbara Baranowski is a published writer and inspirational speaker devoted to family, educational, and spiritual issues.  She lives with her husband John in Roanoke, Virginia and is a retired middle school teacher.

Mother's Day Grief and Graces

by Diane Fenlason - Used by permission
Note from Lois: I am so blessed to have Diane as my niece!

For every mother, there is a story. I know no mother who has not been through a battle while on her journey. For each mother, the journey is personal and unique, but she is not the first mother to have endured that type of journey, and will not be the last. I think I have been in many different motherhood shoes as I have walked through these years of my life, and I want to share some of my heart as it pertains to such a special day. A day that can be so PAINFUL to some of us.

I have been a young married woman who miscarried. I was hopeful that I was pregnant, and expecting a child. I could feel my body beginning to make some changes, even though it was very early in the pregnancy. The excitement was building. And then, very suddenly, he or she was gone. Devastated. Sad. Wondering if the baby would’ve been a boy or girl. 

I am a woman who would deal for years with infertility, finally being told by the specialist that I just couldn’t conceive, for reasons that were not apparent. I routinely and, with hope in my heart, went through several rounds of fertility treatments. I waited with impatience through weeks that seemed to last an eternity for the doctor to say “YES, you are pregnant! It worked!” But each time, I was met by a silent shake of the head from the nurse to say that I was not pregnant. The hope of having a baby died more each time it failed. 

I am a woman who came to terms with the idea that I would probably never have children. Maybe that wasn’t what the Lord wanted from me. I pleaded with God to take the desire away from me if He was calling me to do something different with my life than to be a mother. It hurt. No less than cutting out a piece of my heart.

I am a woman who became an adoptive mother. Twice! I remember wondering if I could love a child that I would adopt as much as I could love a biological child. As soon as she was placed in my arms, She. Was. Mine. The child of my heart, physically given life by another. The complete, crazy joy I felt somehow melded into one with the complete sadness that must’ve been within the birth mother’s soul that day. I wondered how it would be to be able to say “thank you” to that woman I would never know. How do you say thank you for such a gift?

The second time I became an adoptive mom, I was able to sit arm in arm with the birth mom. I was able to hear his heartbeat from inside the womb during her last OB appointment. I was able to spend a lot of time with her after she gave birth, and before bringing our new, tiny blue bundle home. Yes, I was joyful. But I was in awe of this woman who said she had prayed that God would provide a mother who would teach her baby, as he grew, about God. This woman who looked me in the eye and said, “You are the one I prayed for!”  As she and I dressed him for the trip home from the hospital, and we hugged one another, I whispered in her ear that I would always honor her, and that I loved her and he would grow up knowing his story. Her life choices had led her to this moment, and it was unbelievable the pain, sorrow, joy and hope that hit me all at the same time. And finally…….I knew what it was like to be able to thank the one who carried her child – my child – and placed him in my arms to raise. It was a moment I will never forget.

I am a woman who was a single mom. When these two children were young, my first husband made the decision to leave the marriage. While I didn’t realize it at the time, at least not fully, he had left the marriage very early on. The divorce was a formality for him at that point, I suppose. But it was devastating. I didn’t get married for this. I got married for life. I was committed. I was faithful. I loved. But now, I was alone with two children. And I was angry at God. Angry that He allowed this to happen. Angry that now my kids didn’t have a father who was present in their life. At least not in the way I thought it was supposed to be. It was hard. I suddenly found myself not fitting in. Most of my close friends were couples. Now I was feeling like a 3rd wheel. I didn’t fit with singles, because I was older and had kids, and no singles group I knew then was comprised of 30-something women with kids. I didn’t fit at church. My church didn’t even know what to do with me. I still served. I was still faithfully attending. But there was a strange silence around me, like no one knew what to say. But I realized the answer was not to leave the church out of my discomfort. It was to stay and to allow God to grow and use me in ways that I never imagined. To model for my children what faithfulness and accountability looked like when life was hard. And, with time, healing came.

Then, the Lord brought an amazing man into my life. A single dad. We realized that this was a divine appointment for each of our lives, and he asked me to be his wife. I realized that this man 1)Truly loved the Lord and wanted Him to be #1 and 2) Truly loved me in a way that made me see Christ’s love for His church. We had our eyes wide open to the challenging road that lay before us in “blending” a family, but nonetheless, God led us here, and who were we to say no to His leading?

I am a stepmom. Like most blended families, we struggle with kids going back and forth between households, and the challenge of creating consistency along with helping the kids to adjust whenever they come back home, since rules and the way of life in the other households are so different. It’s hard when you are the mom of the household, but not everyone calls you “Mom.” However, my calling to be a mom to my stepson is just as real as my calling to be a mom to the other kids. I ask God for grace on this task every day, and ask Him to keep strengthening the relationship I have with every one of my kids. And, just as a bonus tip: I have learned that “Blended Family” is really a misnomer. Bringing two broken families together is more like taking pieces of two different shattered vases, and trying to create a whole new vase (or something that resembles it) out of all the shards. It is time consuming, messy, and doesn’t always look good. But the reward is to hopefully end up with a vessel that will be used for something beautiful. I pray that our “glued together pieces” will be that kind of vessel. 

And….I am a woman who, at 40, after believing my life was very full, and that God had made me mom to three great kids, found out that we were expecting. What?!?! We were so surprised, and recognized the fact that God does have a sense of humor, and a timing that is all His own. And, that timing is PERFECT. Our youngest is a constant reminder of God’s grace lavished on us. We borrow our children for a time, but they are all gifts from our Heavenly Father. Treasures from Heaven.

If you have gotten through today’s celebration of motherhood feeling some degree of hurt, disappointment, or with a reminder of what you feel that you are missing…..YOU ARE NOT ALONE. It is a lonely place. I recognize that. I have felt that. But never let the enemy convince you that you should continue to feel alone. 

One of the greatest things about God’s grace is that when we are weakest, His grace can lend us strength. When we think we are in a hopeless situation, He IS our hope. When we feel that we aren’t complete, we can find comfort that He alone makes us complete. 

Before I was a mother, I was a mother-at-heart. God put that deep desire within me to be a mom. Maybe that is where you are today. Perhaps your desire to become a mother has gone unfulfilled. Or maybe you are a dear mother who has lost a child. Or perhaps you are parenting in a difficult situation, or with a wayward child whose rebellion has broken your heart into a gazillion pieces. 

Take heart. Your journey is just that. A journey. You are not done, and your story is not finished being written. If the Lord has put within your heart the desire to be a mother, then go and do the work of motherhood. If you haven’t been gifted with children of your own at this point, be a woman who graces others with love for their children. Some of the most influential women in my life have actually been single women who have loved on my kids and have been role models of faithful followers of Christ. Do not become isolated in the false belief that you are on a road without companions. There are many of us. Some who are on that difficult road right now, others who have been for a long time and are tired and weary, and some of us who have gotten a little farther along and can remember well the hardships. And yet, we can see how God’s mercy and grace met us where we were. He can meet you there, too. All of us have our own story, but we are not meant to deal with these challenges alone.

I celebrate motherhood. Not all mothers have children standing beside them. But mothers do know within their hearts that the unwavering love of a mother is there. I applaud your courage. I acknowledge the depth of your hurt when this day comes and you find it excruciating. I get it. Reach out. Find a woman who can help you see God’s grace to bring you through and help you to thrive in His joy and His completion of you. There will come a day will you will be able to pour out into others, too. You will be able to say, “I was a woman who was there, where you are. Look what God did in me!” 

My sister, it is ALL God’s grace. It’s all for His glory. If I had never had any children, I would hope that God’s grace could be seen through me, and that He would have me poured out into little lives somehow. But for now, I pray that as I get up each morning and my feet hit the floor, I would be a better momma to my four kids. That I would be more patient. That I wouldn’t get mad at the kids when they start to bicker with each other. That I would still want to serve them breakfast, even when I don’t feel thanked or appreciated. That I would take every opportunity I have today to teach and train these precious children that God has entrusted to my love and care.
I pray for you, wherever you are in your journey. I don’t understand why but one thing I do hold to: The Lord has a plan and purpose in everything He allows. Good and bad, joyous or heart wrenching; He can use it all for His honor and glory. He has a perfect and good plan for you! He really does! Jeremiah 29:11 says “For I know the plans for you says the Lord; plans to prosper you, not to harm you; plans to give you hope and a future.”

So, dear sister, if you are looking down at your feet today, discouraged at where you are, realize that the Lord sees the many steps ahead of those feet, and He is there to walk with you. We can’t see very far ahead. But we can trust the One who does. Grip His hand, and hold tightly!

Have a blessed day, to all the mothers and mothers-at-heart! You are amazing!

Diane Fenlason
Email: BusyMami@msn.com

A Supernatural Cashmere and Cotton

by Michelle Gill - Used by permission
www.michellegill.us

Before my baby goes to sleep at night I cover her with her bed sheet and horse comforter but more importantly I cover her with blessings and prayer.  Our blessings and our prayers are like laying the most snuggly supernatural cashmere and cotton blanket over our children.  God tells us to pray without ceasing and that our prayers accomplish much.

Here are some reasons that I think supernatural cashmere and cotton are a must in a child's life:

1) We are commanded to pray for one another and there is power in prayer.

2) Praying with and over your child, teaches them how to pray and to go to God first and about everything no matter how small.

3) It shows them Who you believe God is.  When you speak to Him as a Father that loves you, as a Warrior, as your Savior, as a Comforter,... they pick up on Who He is.

4) Prayer covers them with His Spirit, His Word, and I pray for my daughter to be filled with His Spirit as well.

5) You get the honor of watching God at work in your child's life as He speaks to you both during prayer and you both watch Him in action as He answers.

6) We may never fully understand but prayer is also spiritual warfare.  We are doing battle on behalf of our child and we understand that spiritually as their parent and as a believer we have authority given to us by their Creator not the enemy.  Our authority through Jesus supersedes any plan he may have for them.

7) We teach our children how to think from the time they are very little.  I want my children to see life and others through Jesus's heart of love not through the world's perspective or their natural tendencies.  As a man thinks so is he.  Our thought life shapes how we pray and how we see our circumstances.  The Word renews our mind and praying with His Word not only produces powerful prayer but shows the true intentions of the heart and helps mold our hearts.

8) Through prayer God promises us His peace which passes all understanding and guards our hearts and minds.  Shew!  Isn't that a lot?!  His supernatural peace and protection over our hearts and minds.  What a Daddy we have!

9) There will be times that prayer will lead to worship and don't get me started about worship!  There is no better way to be covered in His presence than to worship Him.

When these things are a natural part of our lives then they become a natural part of theirs.

"How Do I Do It?"

by Gina Martin - Used by permission   I get questions like this often:  "So, can you tell me how you do it? :) how you manage to be a mother/raise children, grow more than a quick, average garden, read more books than many mothers manage to get around to, make all sorts of delicious recipes, and who knows how many other pursuits you have...home decorating? Sewing, canning, cleaning..."- Karissa In the past I wrote about How to Do It All - the answer to my frustrations to not getting everything done that I wish. I really don't do everything, even if it looks like it. Blogging can give a distorted picture of life. Like every other mom, I have to put food on the table. I just snap a picture of it (my children say that I take far too many pictures of food). And occasionally I pull out one of those photos and type up the recipe to share with all of you blog friends. But I hate to think that I might contribute to your discouragement because of blogging. Every mom is busy. I don't think I do anything more than most moms, I just write about it, and somehow that makes it appear like more. Like everyone else, including you, I wake up in the morning and do one thing, and then one more, and on through the day. I don't get nearly everything done that I wish. My to-do list is never all checked off. But with one thing at a time, something gets done. At the end of the day I read a few pages and somehow those few pages turn into books by the end of the year. One thing at a time. Or as Elisabeth Elliot used to say "Do the next thing." Of course there are many other facets. We all have seasons of life. We all have times when even the bare necessities of life are hard to accomplish, when even putting a meal on the table looks like an impossibility. Also our background and training make a huge impact on our present lives. I grew up in a large farming family. As the oldest daughter I had the experience of cooking vast amounts of food, doing huge piles of laundry, and canning bushels of tomatoes. I learned many shortcuts and today I can fly through a pile of ironing, zip through sewing a dress, and cook a meal while holding a baby. Maybe you had to start from scratch at learning homemaking skills. Give yourself a break and don't fall into the comparison trap. And waiting behind that is the Perfectionist Trap. I heard an older mom say that she was a good plodder. She was a talented woman with a many children who accomplished a huge amount. But she didn't have any secrets, she only said that she as a good plodder. Every morning she woke up, put one foot in front of another, and moved through her day. With years of faithfully, day after day, showing up, doing one thing at a time, the results are amazing. Plodding might not sound exciting. But I have seen its effectiveness.  Follow Gina on her blog at www.homejoys.blogspot.com.

How to Play with your Child

by Decca Knight
Wife, mother, counselor, and parenting educator
www.blueridgeparenting.com

Used with permission (originally printed in Bella magazine October 2014)

This sounds simple, right?  Playing with your child can't be that hard!  I am surprised, though, at many parents' lack of "skill" in this area.  When talking with parents, I often ask how they play with their child.  Answers usually include watching TV, playing video games, and practicing sports.  But this isn't play; this is simply existing "beside" your child.

Do you remember how we used to play?  Yes, I know that I sound like an annoying old lady reminiscing about those nostalgic years (for the record I am only 29).  We used to play clapping games, build forts in the woods, roll down grassy hills, and create villages out of Lincoln Logs and blocks.  We role-played, brainstormed creative fantasylands, and stared into each other's eyes until someone blinked.  Such interactions strengthened not only our creative minds, but also our relationships.  They fostered an authentic connection with those around us. 

Such play, however, is often difficult for parents.  There are various reasons for this.  First off, we have to relinquish control to our children.  We have to allow them to create and lead the play.  This means that if they want to build a precarious block tower - and then knock it down with abandon - we let them.  If they want us to play house with them and the refrigerator is in the bedroom, we don't correct them.  If they want us to stomp through the mud in the river bottom with them, we tamper our anxiety about ruining our clothes.  Think about the joy you would have felt as a child if an adult had played with you in this way, allowing you to reach the bounds of your joy and imagination.  But as adults, we often "get in the way" of our children, because of our own judgment and discomfort.

Also, many parents struggle in playing with their children because adults tend to make everything educational.  Yes, we want our child to be the next Einstein, but they spend enough time at school learning and studying.  When they are not in school, they should be allowed to engage in free play.  If a child is out in the woods collecting acorns, we shouldn't turn it into a game of addition and subtraction.  If a child is lying in the grass, looking at cloud shapes, we shouldn't try to identify the various types of cloud formations.  If a child is engaged in creating a nature journal, we shouldn't scold them for misspellings.  We shouldn't suck the joy out of playing; we just need to let our children "be".

So, when playing with your child, step back.  Allow them to drive the play, create the stories, get dirty, and exist in the bliss that is childhood.  We all know that this time is fleeting, so allow your child to bask in its wonders. 

The Powerful Habit of Choosing Kindness

by Matthew and Lisa and Jacobson - Used by permission

Club31Women 

 

Today we’re talking about Choosing Kindness as part of our series The Seven Habits of a Highly Fulfilling Marriage. 

 

For The Wives

I was always so happy to see her.

Whenever she dropped by – I dropped everything. Smiled and gave her a hug. Suggested that she stay awhile and made her a cup of tea.

They were just little things, I know. But it was my way of saying “I care about you” and “you are dear to me”.  Simple, small acts of kindness offered to a friend.

My husband watched it all from the other room. I think I’d forgotten he was even home that day. Observing it all from his favorite chair.

Then I noticed a rather melancholy look in his eyes. Sort of sad with a bit of regret. And so later I asked him about it.

“What? What were you thinking while Susan was here?”

He shrugged, but I wasn’t about to let him off that easily. I had to know. Please tell me. Even if hurts.

He started out slowly, “I couldn’t help wishing. And wondering.”

Yes….I urged impatiently.

“Well, why you wouldn’t smile like that at me. You know, drop everything and give me a big hug when I walked through the door. Offer to make a pot of coffee. Things like that…things like you did for her.”

He was right. And it hurt.

My husband – that man I love – was only looking for a little kindness. Small gestures of thoughtfulness. From me. His wife.

You might say it was a turning point for us. Before that I considered kindness as something you “felt” toward someone – more like a sentimental impulse. I didn’t understand that it was something you could simply choose.

And I certainly didn’t understand that this was something my husband needed from me.

 

A Kind Wife Who…

Smiles warmly. She lights up when she sees her man.

Looks up lovingly. When he walks in. Sure, she’s busy, but always has a moment for him.

Replies graciously. She doesn’t snap or snarl. She saves her sweet tone for him.

Offers thoughtfully. She looks for those little ways to bless him.
And on her tongue is the law of kindness. Prov. 31:26

Admittedly, this took some effort on my part. I’m sorry to say it didn’t flow naturally from me, but at least it came more easily as time went on.

And now it’s just my way of saying, “I care about you” and “you are dear to me.” Simple, small acts of kindness offered to a friend.

Who also happens to be my husband.

That man I love.

In His grace,
Lisa Jacobson

 

For The Husbands

I never meant to be unkind but there I was, getting dressed as her words stabbed me deeply.

Why do you leave your dirty laundry all over the floor? Do you want the maid to pick up after you?

Maid? I don’t treat you like a maid.

Really? Then why can’t you carry your dirty laundry ten feet to the laundry basket, instead of throwing it on the floor? You’d never treat someone else like this.

Ouch . . . it was true, I never would. When I’m in a hotel, I even hate leaving the towels on the floor. So, what was I thinking? . . . was I thinking?

Or take the exhausted wife with young children whose husband regularly kicks back after work but rarely thinks of giving her a break.

Or the husband talking with me while keeping his back to his wife the entire time.

How about not considering her needs and desires when we’re being intimate?

There are a lot of ways to be unkind.

Choosing kindness in action, word, or tone communicates: I care deeply about how you feel. When a woman knows . . . feels . . . she is deeply cared for, she finds herself in a safe place where giving of herself becomes a pleasure. Without kindness, the habitual kindness, the highly fulfilling marriage you desire will remain a desire, nothing more.

There are plenty of good reasons to develop the habit of kindness but there’s one reason that trumps them all: God commands it:

Be kind to one another, Eph.4:32

There is a great deal of power in your possession – power that is unleashed to envelope your spouse with love when you learn the habit of choosing kindness in the many everyday moments that make up a marriage.

And, it is a choice – a choice for you and for me to make every day. And, yes, it flows both ways but, men, we are the initiators (or should be if we’re not).

If you need to know specifics, humbly ask your spouse where you need to change. And if being made aware isn’t enough, ask God to do His work in your heart and head.

Embrace the Habit of Choosing Kindness and you’ll be in fellowship with God, with your spouse, and on the road to a highly fulfilling marriage.

Matthew

 

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